Adventures With Mick St John and Company
by Miss Late Bloomer
Summary: Leni Hayes from Fever had big problems, but Mick St. John came to the rescue, and they formed a bond that seemed unbreakable. How will Josef Kostan and his set of complications fit in?
1. All That Jazz

Greetings, everyone. I'm about to embark on another long-term fanfic experience with you all. I don't own _Moonlight_; never will, so therefore, cannot make any money off the show. However, I hope to receive payments in reviews, which will result in faster updates, and a happier writer. Don't be afraid to send in constructive criticism, or offer up suggestions for the story. I have a basic plan for the narrative, but it's not set in stone.

This story will follow the character Leni Hayes through her ordeal as a key witness, through her pregnancy, and beyond. You might ask: Why write a story about Leni, a one-shot character on the show? Don't ask me to understand how inspiration works, but something about that young woman captured my attention. Even though the show doesn't seem interested in reprising her character's role, Leni will continue to interact with Mick in this story. This story is not going to be completely faithful to canon, and if something from the show doesn't work for the tale I want to tell, I'll either ignore it or re-work it.

If you haven't seen episode 4, you can still read this. This is a very accurate adaptation of the episode, (from Leni's prospective, anyway) so you won't be lost in future chapters.

**Installment 1**

Hey, I'm Leni Hayes, nice to meet you. Pull up a chair; make yourself comfortable and all that jazz. Like no way are you ever gonna buy what I'm about to tell you, but I figure it's worth a shot. Even if you think it's bullshit, you won't be bored.

Where to start? Life's full of beginnings and endings, but unlike in books, chapters don't have headings. It all kind of blends in. And sometimes an episode just isn't a chapter; it's a whole friggin' book. _Adventures with Mick St. John And Company_ definitely deserves its own book. Well, it wasn't no pleasure cruise, but I'd have to say it made me a better person, and I'm glad for my kid it happened.

The prologue would have to be hooking up with Jack. I wasn't looking for anything serious, believe me. I was 20 at the time; I just wanted to have fun. And having kids? Liked 'em, (well, duh since I'm a nanny, I shouldn't hate them) but forget it! This was 2007, not 1957! I wasn't in the market for popping out babies, that was for like when I was in my 30's. I wanted to travel, wanted to have affairs with hot Latin types, wanted to build up my career. The 'me, me, me' factor should go right out the window when you have kids, and I liked the 'me, me, me' factor.

I don't think Jack was looking for anything like that either, I think he just saw me as a kid at first. He was ten years older than me, and into some pretty heavy shit. I mean, it was all a little _Godfather_ for me, (only my boss wasn't half as good looking as Al Pacino) and Jack Toland was the muscle in that creepy organization. I thought he was just another thug, you know? No way did I want to get mixed up in that. I don't think he was all that impressed with me either, not like I cared.

Oh, I guess I'm getting ahead of myself already, making mob movie references and talking about thugs when you don't even have a clue what I'm babbling about. How I even met Jack was a total fluke. Most nannies go to college for the biz, have some experience under their belt before they get the kind of job I did. I mean, I was working for a billionaire Arm's dealer Amir Fayed, watching his only daughter. He recruited me right out of high school, based on some baby sitting references. The fact he'd pick an eighteen-year-old to watch his baby girl should have been my first clue. He didn't want a professional adult; he wanted a kid he could push around.

At first, I didn't pick up on any bad vibes, and even if I had, I probably would have kicked them aside. Let's see, I got to live in a mansion rent free, got paid good money, got to use the gigantic pool on my free time, and got to hang out with the coolest kid, Mara. Not to mention, there's the fact that my parents are total losers, and I'd been crashing on friend's couches for my senior year.

Yeah, Mara and me, we clicked. I mean, she's this really old soul, but all innocent and bubbly, like a kid should be. Man, that girl could talk, and she's really smart too. She was kind of lonely, since her dad was a control freak, and didn't let her have any friends. Later, it'd make more sense, but it still isn't fun. Mara's mom was pretty high-strung, really into herself, and daddy was too busy to play dollies, so she was on her own, except for the maids. Then I came into the picture, and the rest was history. She was four then, and after that, we were the two musketeers.

Perks or no perks, I would have bailed after a while if it weren't for her. Believe me, I wasn't looking to snoop around, but it was all around me. Amir Fayed may try to come off like this do-gooder who wants to kiss little orphans and feed the homeless, but he's a real creep. No, he never made a pass at me, if that's what you're thinking; he's got a mistress for that. Yeah, like right in his house, under the wife's nose. Not that wifey would protest, she likes her credit cards too much, and she's probably just glad she doesn't have to bang him all the time. The whole 'other woman' thing, (and I'm sure there's others, she's just the main one) isn't what I mean by the creep factor.

No, I mean, he's up to his eyeballs in illegal activities. I don't know the details; I'd probably be dead by now if I did, but I know it involved racketeering, on a major level. He's also got a prostitution ring going, or at least he did for a while. Like I said, Jack Toland was his muscle; he 'helped get results.' Maybe I should've been scared of him, but I wasn't. I just didn't like him. I mean, he broke legs and who knows what else. What's to like?

Then one day we really just talked. It turns out we both have lousy parents, and Jack had it harder than me. His old man beat the crap out of him, until he got taken away at ten to foster care. According to Jack, some of the people were decent, but he was rebellious and went down a rough path. Fayed 'discovered' him at 17, and took him in. Don't get too choked up, it was hardly altruistic. He shined him up and put him to work. Jack felt like he owed him, and figured he was better off with a rich boss working the big leagues than some little punk nickel and diming it.

At first I wondered if Jack was feeding me some sob story to get into my pants, but the longer I got to know him, I realized he was a guy you could trust to be on the level. Maybe it was some of that 'bad boy' thing at work, but there was something about Jack himself that drew me in. You could tell he was into me too, even though he was a little wierded out about the age thing. But sometimes something's bigger than you, and you've got to go with the flow. We took it slow, since I was a virgin, and he didn't want to be the big bad wolf. But when it happened, it was worth the wait. I remembering cuddling with him afterwards, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

The next year and a half was awesome. As Mara put it, my happy face was on all the time. Well, almost all the time. There was a big, fat fly in the ointment. It was like Fayed owned Jack or something, and Jack was better than the crap he was doing. I mean, he was a good person, you know? This wasn't him anymore. It killed me watching him lose a little more of his soul every time his hands got dirtier. I never asked, but an idiot could tell I wanted him to get out. I mean, I all but drew him a picture with labels.

It took a lot of guts for him to go to the cops; I think it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He _did_ care about Fayed, since he felt like he'd be dead or in prison without our boss' 'help', but he knew that he had to do the right thing if he was ever going to be his own man. I never really thought about the risk. Stupid, huh? I mean, he was going to rat out a sociopath to the cops, and everything was gonna be peachy keen? I guess I just saw Jack as too tough to get into trouble he couldn't handle.

I don't know how Fayed figured out he was talking to the police, and I guess I never will. It was just a night like any other night. Mara was trying to stall bedtime, and wanted a glass of water. I went downstairs to get her one, and I heard the yelling. I didn't know what to think, don't remember being scared or not. I do remember not even connecting whatever Fayed was freaking out about to Jack being an informant. The guy had a temper; it could've been about anything.

I've never seen someone get killed before, never seen a dead body. It's not like on TV, it's not like anything I thought it was. One minute, Jack was standing on the living room carpet, the next he was lying on it. Fayed didn't see me, I didn't make any noise. I just stared, with that glass still in my hand.

The cops wanted to nail Fayed bad. The racketeering case went south, so they went after him for Jack's death. I knew Fayed probably had a team of fancy lawyers, that with his money, he could buy himself off the hook. I couldn't let that happen. I knew I was putting myself on the line, knew it would hurt Mara to lose me too, but Jack was somebody. He_ wasn't_ just some thug. He'd died because he was trying to start over, for me, for himself, for us. I couldn't let him down.

No one knew we were involved. Jack thought it would make me a target for the boss man, that he might think I knew too much. I wasn't ashamed I'd been with Jack, but people wouldn't take me as seriously if they knew the whole deal. I went to D.A. Josh Lindsay, and told him as much of the truth as I could. It was a classic 'wrong place at wrong time' scenario. It wasn't a lie, just the edited version.

He wanted to put me in a safe house, and I felt like I was in the Twilight zone. My boyfriend was dead, and I was going to be stuck in some rat hole with a bunch of strangers watching my every move. "You'll be safe," they kept telling me, and I bought it. I mean, I had to believe it or I'd go nuts. I was already climbing the walls, so it would have been a short trip into nutsville.

I mean, have you ever been in a safe house? Oh, it's great. You've got two cops with you all the time and they're as bored as you. Yeah, and there's helicopters flying around outside, so forget a good night's sleep. Nothing ever good's on cable and you can only read so many trashy tabloids before Paris Hilton and Britney Spears' crap gets real old. Sure, living in LA I've always kept up on celebrity dirt, but when you practically got your Masters degree on the stuff; you've really hit a low. You can't talk on the phone to anybody, and forget computer access. Seriously, I felt like the criminal, because I sure was in jail.

Don't get me wrong, the team was cool. It wasn't their fault this whole thing sucked. Officer Nagwa and Colden let me go into the stores once in a while, and that's where I bought the Home Pregnancy Kit. (Actually, I bought three, to be sure, you know?) I was late, plus I was puking my guts out, and the second month, I knew something was up. I stared at that little strip, wanting to scream. They heard me crying, but probably thought it was PMS or something, or maybe just the crappy situation.

I wanted to feel Jack's arms around me so bad, but he was dead and he'd never do anything again. I believe in heaven, so maybe he'd see his baby, but my baby would never know its daddy. I'd taken care of kids, and I'm pretty good with them, but that's not the same thing as being a mom. My mind went a million different places at once. Finally, I just had to block it out. I would have turned into a basket case otherwise. For now, I had to focus on getting Fayed behind bars.

By the time Mara's 8th birthday rolled around, it was almost over. I was going to testify soon. D.A. Lindsay kept telling me that I'd be his ace in the hole, that Jack's killer would go away for a very long time. It was something to hold on to, I guess. I wondered how I'd feel after. It's not like Jack be able to sweep me into his arms, and it'd all be a bad dream, even if Fayed did go down. Still, I couldn't live with knowing the smug bastard was free and clear, with Jack in the ground.

I twirled my foot in the boots Jack gave me, trying to figure out how to call Mara for her birthday. My babysitters would freak out if they knew I wanted to call the enemy's kid, so there was a no-go.

"Yeah, right," Officer Nagwa scoffed. "Let's tell the reporter all about the secret witness stashed away in a safe house." I guess the DA has this reporter girlfriend, and in the past, he slips her tidbits on cases, but this time, he's got to keep his mouth shut. Talk about a conflict of interest, but I guess even a lawyer's got to get laid.

"This place might be safe, but it's never quiet," I couldn't help but bitch. Nagwa ignores me, pretty into the card game they're playing, but at least Colden looks up for like a second. "What's up with all the helicopters?"

"Crime never sleeps," Colden retorts. Lame.

"So we can't either?" I shoot back, which get's a kind of smile out of Colden. Again, Nagwa spaces me out, like I'm room furniture or something. I remember the club down the street from last year, when Jack took me out dancing. Trying not to get sappy, I start joking around. "There's a good D.J. spinning down the street. Who wants to go clubbing?"

Colden's quick to be a kill-joy. "Let me just put my bling on." Yikes, I actually got a mental picture of that one.

I get an idea, and decide to put it in motion. "Fine. I'll just read my trashy tabloid…if someone remembered." Colden's got two teenage daughters, so he's usually the one to play step and fetch.

"Ye of little faith." He pulls out the folded up magazine, handing it over.

"Thank you, Officer Colden." Taking it, I lean over to kiss him on the cheek, discreetly slipping his cell phone out of the jacket pocket where he always keeps it. He really should mix it up once in a while; being a creature of habit can get you into trouble. I drop it in my pocket on my way to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to make sure I'm not busted. "Night," I say innocently.

"Sleep well," Colden answers, both totally clueless.

Relieved, I dial Mara's number, sinking down onto the bed. Two rings and her sweet little voice is in my ear. "Hey, it's Leni. Can you talk?"

"Yeah," she squeals, on cloud nine. "You okay?"

"Bored stiff, but safe as can be," I reassure her. "Your birthday go okay?"

"I missed you. It's no fun without you." I can see her pouting, showing off that famous lip.

"Bet you got lot's of cool presents," I say, trying to cajole her into a better mood. "So, what'd you get?"

She rattles off a list about a mile long, but doesn't sound very excited. Her parents have been showering her with stuff since she was born, so I guess the appeal wore off at some point. She's a bright kid; she knows she's being bought, even if she doesn't understand what that means yet. And what she wants most is a little TLC, and they're fresh out of that. And now I'm gone. It was a rough deal.

I hear a knock at the front door, and stiffen. "Daddy was acting weird. He was running around, and yelling at the guys who work for him. He didn't even watch me open my presents." _Yeah, he's too busy trying to get away with murder_, I thought furiously, but held my tongue for her sake.

"I'm sorry, honey. I'll give you my present as soon as I see you," I promised. "I've got to go. I'm thinking of you, Mara."

"I'm thinking of you, too," she announced passionately, and I stifled a few stray tears. One thing that was a major bummer was that when this was all over, I wouldn't be able to watch her anymore. When she was older would she understand the reason I helped put her dad away?

I'd just picked up the magazine, when I heard the gunshots. I jumped off the bed, running on instinct just as the door got kicked open. I shoved my stuff into my old book bag from high school, every thought on the growing life in my womb. "Leni, take cover!" Colden shouted, barging in, pushing me out of the bedroom, and I knew what to do from the bazillion drills they'd made me do. "Go, go, go!"

Like in some movie, Colden exchanged gunshots with the assassin, (I think it was an assassin anyway) and I ran for the corner, protected by the walls. There was smoke in the air so thick it made my throat hurt, and Nagwa was dead on the floor, and I really didn't want to be next. When he got me some cover, Colden gestured for me to make a break for it. "Go, go, go!" You didn't have to tell me twice.

_Please don't let me die, God. Please don't let my baby die,_ I thought as I ran for the stairs, not sure I was going to make it.


	2. Plan B

I ran up the steps, trying not to stamp like an elephant

I ran up the steps, trying not to stamp like an elephant. My heart was beating so fast it literally hurt. I remembered the fire escape, and made a wild dash for the window. The latch was a bitch to pry loose, and pain stabbed along my palm when I gouged myself. I heard myself cry out, looking at the warm and sticky blood for a second before fighting to get the window open. _Come on, come on, come on, _I mentally chanted, my throat closing with panic.

Tears of pure relief stung my eyes when the window gave. Like in some suspense thriller, I could hear footsteps on the stairs, the bad guy in hot pursuit. There wasn't time to think, just react. I hopped out the window like a crazy person, barely remembering to close the window behind me, all but flying down the fire escape, my mind too blank to think about breaking my neck. By the time I reached Officer Colden's truck parked by the dumpster, I was hyperventilating.

Could you drop from a heart attack at 22? I wondered, my skin damp with sweat. That'd be just beautiful; I survive a storm of bullets and get away from a killer, only to be betrayed by my own ticker. The headlines would be funny, a real riot. _Get a grip, Hayes,_ I told myself. I was alive, and if I didn't start moving, it might not stay that way.

Like I said before, Officer Colden was a real creature of habit, and again, it was about to come in handy for me. I crossed over to the passenger side, quickly dropping down to reach underneath, snagging the spare key that he kept for emergencies. I was glad Jack had taught me how to drive a stick, or I'd be screwed. I hopped in, crawling over to the driver's seat, locking the doors before I took off.

My nerves were raw, and the urge to push the truck to 80 was there, but I probably had a better chance of staying alive if I flew under the radar, and did the speed limit. I hissed when my injured hand came into contact with the steering wheel. I spared a quick glance at the cut, making a face. Maybe it wasn't major, but it hurt, dammit. It sucked, everything sucked big time.

_Okay, genius, now what?_ I asked myself. Staying alive was a duh, but I didn't really have what you might call a plan. I couldn't just drive forever. I had some money on me, but only enough to scrape by a couple days. Sure, I had some cash stored away in my bank account, but Fayed probably had that tagged. I sobbed, pounding the steering wheel with my good hand. I blinked hard against the tears, before I wrecked the truck. Now was not the time to get in touch with my inner feelings.

I could go to the DA, tell him what happened. He'd set me up in another safe house, make sure security was tighter this time around. _So more cops can get whacked?_ The image of Nagwa's dead body floated to the surface of my brain, wrenching another sob out of me. The image overlapped into the image of Jack's lifeless form on the Persian carpet. Was Colden part of the body count? He had to be, or the assassin never would have made it up those stairs.

No more cops, I decided. No one else would die because of what I wanted or didn't want. Like it or not, young or not, I had a baby to think about. The 'me me me' factor just went right out the window, that was life. Jack's baby just had to live, life owed me that much. So going to DA Lindsay was out. So obviously, it was plan B. Too bad I didn't have one of those.

Following an impulse, I drove to a familiar place, feeling like I was going to lose it. I parked the truck, crossing that same old street like I have a thousand times before. My feet carried me up those porch steps, nausea churning in my stomach. That might have been from almost buying the farm, or it might have been morning sickness that wasn't so morning.

Like Colden, Jack was a real creature of habit, and for the third time tonight, that was about to come in real handy. I pulled the spare key out from under the welcome mat, hissing. Big dummy that I am, I used the cut up hand. Splats of blood were left behind, but I figured, who's gonna notice? I used to give Jack crap about his spare key location. "Like that's original," I'd tease. "The welcome mat, who knew?" I feel like I can't breathe for a second, the pain's so bad from missing him.

Forcing myself to move, I jam the key into the lock, falling inside like a drunken bum. Everywhere I look, it's like I'm getting punched in the gut. Jack's everywhere, I can even smell him. It's like he's gonna come bounding in, saying: "Hey, beautiful. Got a kiss for me?" I pick up a sweater he left on the floor; he was always such a major slob. I bury my face in it, my legs giving out as I just go down like a sack of potatoes. I rock myself back and forth, muffling my screams in the rough wool.

When I'm empty, totally numb, I drag myself upward, wobbling on my feet. The future's too freaky; I've got to focus on one thing at a time. What do I need now, right now? Okay, I need to clean myself up, get out of the area fast, and lay low for a while before I'm a basket case. I clean myself up, remembering Jack's other place, in Victorville. It's on La Cruces Lane; just south of the middle of nowhere, an old house he'd go to when he wanted to clear his head. Fayed doesn't even know about it, he wouldn't go looking for me there. The fridge is stocked, and there's running water. It was good enough.

Before I leave, I unlock Jack's gun cabinet, taking out the box with his gun. I've never shot anyone before, and Jack was always nagging at me to learn. Still, how hard can it be? Besides, usually, if you flash a gun, that speaks for itself, people are fast to back off. _Unless they're like hardcore, _I tell myself. Well, if anyone puts me or my baby's life on the line, I could put in a bullet in them. Feeling hardcore myself, I jam the gun in my book bag.

I call the bus station, getting the times for buses pulling out to Victorville and the price of the ticket. I have enough, but it would clean me out. I run up the stairs, heading for the bedroom. I almost have another meltdown, looking at the bed where we first made love, where we probably conceived this baby. I steel myself, promising myself I won't cry again, not right now.

Of course, the bed looks like a disaster area, since I don't think the man knew how to make a bed. I lift the mattress, spying a couple hundred dollar bills. It means something to me, like it's the last gift Jack will ever give me, and his baby. "Goodbye, Jack," I whisper as I exit the bedroom.

I crashed the minute I planted my butt on the bus seat. We didn't take off until 6:30 AM. I bet a sadist came up with that schedule. There's a crink in my neck the size of New York, my legs are asleep, and some of my hair got in my mouth somehow. "Ugh. I hate my life," I grumble, ignoring the stare from the lady seated beside me. This was not turning out to be a good day. Well, at least like I didn't feel like I wanted to barf. Then again, I hadn't eaten in about twelve hours, so there you go.

Grabbing my brush from my bag, (of course, it had to be at the bottom) I try to tame the bush on my head into viable hair. Along with some lint and old bubblegum wrapper, I found a clip in the side pocket to pull it partially back to at least get it out of my eyes. The air conditioning's cranked up a mile high, so I pull on my grey sweatshirt.

Gingerly stretching out my numb legs, I wonder if the DA will send anyone after me. Will he be able to pull it off without me? _You can't worry about that, _I tell myself. _Priorities, girl. It won't do anybody any good if you get yourself killed. Jack would want the baby to come first. _Lindsay would just have to figure it out on his own.

My bladder feels like it's going to bust right then and there, so I use the not-so stellar facilities. I heard once that when really pregnant, like in the last stages, you have to pee every five minutes._ Something to look forward to_, I thought, making a face in the dingy mirror as I was washing my hands. I settled back in my seat, trying to look totally normal.

By the time we pulled into the diner in Victorville, I felt about as normal as Britney Spears in a Nun's Habit. We all got off the bus, and I seemed to blend in with the rest of them. Not too many people are peppy after being stuck on a bus for hours on end. I was here with Jack once, when he stopped to get gas, cutting it pretty close to having an empty tank. We grabbed a quick bite while we were here, and the chow wasn't too bad. Right now, I'm more interested in getting something to drink.

I make a beeline for the cool drinks machine, digging out a crumbled one dollar bill, the only one I have. Doubt the thing makes change for a cool hundred. I pass a guy leaning on a cool vintage Benz, registering him out the corner of my eye. He's probably waiting for his girlfriend to get off work or something, and I don't think much more than that about him. Kind of got a lot of stuff on my mind, you know?

When I try to feed the machine my dollar, the thing rejects it, whirling in protest. "Come on, come on," I say under my breath, lightly hitting the thing, wanting to take a hammer to it. _Come on, cut the desperate-in-danger-pregnant chick a break, _I almost scream.

"Try this one." I turn my head; see a less mangled dollar bill in long, masculine fingers. I bite back a yelp, I'm so jumpy. How the hell did he get up in my space without me hearing him? "Swap you," he offers with a quick flash of a smile.

"Thanks." I take it from him. He was the guy leaning against the car. Why'd he follow me over? _Duh, Hayes, because he's thirsty, it being September in California and all. _I know I'm just being paranoid, but he's so friggin' close, and he's not moving. I try to ignore him, but every second that goes by, I get more and more freaked. I mean, he's probably just trying to pick me up, but I'm so not in the mood.

I face him, my hand clutching on the bill, mangling that one up good too. "You got a problem?" He looks normal, cute even, although the last part was just an observation. I can't even picture having an interest in a guy right now, if even it's just aesthetic. He's wearing a black baseball cap, dark shades, a black jacket over a tan Henley, and dark blue jeans. Fairly nice bod underneath. He could be an average local, or someone just passing by on their way to bigger and better. Then again, he could be rapist, a serial killer, both, or one of Fayed's underlings.

He's cool as a cucumber when he answers: "No, but you do…Leni."

Okay, that's it. I'm through messing around. I pull out the gun, letting it make its own point. "Who are you?"

He holds up his hands, but doesn't look scared. Cautious, but unfazed. It doesn't help my mood. "I'm Mick St. John, I'm a private detective. Josh Lindsay hired me to get you back to LA safely."

Okay, he seemed like a professional, but that wasn't always a good thing. "Well, I'm not going back. Don't come any closer." He seems poised to rip the gun out of my hands, and I'm not taking any chances.

"I'm here to protect you."

Oh, save it. "Yeah, that's what the cops said." And look where they are.

"Listen, you've got to trust me-" he starts to say, dropping his hands, getting closer. It was just a reflex, I swear. I felt my finger pull the trigger, the sound of the gun firing covered up by the bus' engine as it pulled out. The guy flew back, clutching his arm. I felt my jaw drop, panic surging through me. Holy shit…

By the way, did I mention this was not turning out to be a good day?


	3. Mick St John

_This isn't happening! This can't be happening!_ I couldn't believe I just shot somebody; it seemed like a bad dream. Then again, the last twelve hours were one bad dream, this was just another segment, and I really just wanted to wake up. "Oh, my God, are you okay?" I heard myself ask like an idiot. He just got shot, of course he wasn't okay! I hovered over him, on the verge of flipping out bad. I pressed my hands to my mouth, feeling them shake like leaves after I let the gun slip back into my bag, though I feel like tossing it.

Then he's straightening up. "I'm okay, you missed me," he reassures me.

The near miss, (literally) still has me wound up tight, and my body's not ready to calm down. My mouth just kind of starts going without much conscious thought. "I never even fired a gun before; my boyfriend always said I should learn. I don't-"

"Your boyfriend?" I vaguely hear him ask.

"Oh, just in case." I barely finish the sentence, feeling like I'm going to pass out from everything.

"Jack Toland?" The sudden question brings me up short, and I'm staring at him. _Nobody_ knows that. How the hell did he…? "I've been to his house; I know you two were involved."

"So I'm supposed to trust you?" I demand. Okay, this guy's at least competent at being a professional snoop. That doesn't make him like marine material or whatever. Or one of the good guys, for that matter.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." Not the typical comforting line, but it's nice to know he's not a wuss. Or so he says. Either way, I can't afford to let my guard down. Better to keep an eye out for a quick exit, just in case. "I just want to talk." He sighs, glances around, tense. That _does _make me feel a little better, but I don't know why. "You hungry?"

"Yeah." No harm in bumming a free meal off this guy. If he turns out to be a creep, I can always just ditch him.

"Okay. Come on. Come on in." He's goes ahead of me, and I'm grateful he doesn't physically lead me in. I don't want to be touched right this second, not by a total stranger. I follow him, hoping I'm not making a big mistake.

The diner's just like I remembered it a year ago. "What'll you have?" this Mick guy asks me.

"A chicken burger and a sprite." I grab a seat as he heads for the counter, wondering if I should make a break for it. _If you're gonna,_ _eat first, then bail, dummy, _I think to myself. _You can always use the ladies' room excuse. _I used that in high school, but that was usually because of a sucky date. I watch him move, wondered if he did much dancing. He's kind of got a graceful way of moving that most guys don't.

"It'll be a few minutes." He's back, voice real mellow, and I'll bet he's trying hard not to spook me. How much practice does he have at this kind of stuff? I wonder why the DA would send a P.I. and not a cop or F.B.I. agent or something. _What, I'm low priority? _I speculate.

"How come he sent you? Josh Lindsay, I mean."

"Because he knows I'll get the job done." Some guys, that would have sounded cocky, but he doesn't come off that way.

"I thought P.I.'s just followed people around, took pictures and stuff." I'd only met one private detective before, my friend Hailey's dad in the 7th grade. Smart guy, but really out of shape, came from sitting at a desk too much he claimed. Mick didn't seem like the desk job type.

He sits down, quirks his lips at me. "There's a lot of that, yeah. It's nice to have a change of pace."

"Glad I could accommodate you," I retort sarcastically. It seems to roll off his back, and I have a feeling it'd take a lot to offend this guy. "So, what, this is fun for you?"

"Well, almost getting shot livens the day up." I wince at the reminder. Maybe I shouldn't be so bitchy; I could have really hurt the guy. He gives me a gentle look. "Hey, it's okay. It was just a joke."

"I wouldn't be joking if someone almost shot me," I admit. I'm starting to relax, and have to force myself not to. He could just be lulling me into a false sense of security, and either way, he wants to take me back to a dangerous situation.

"It was understandable, but I wouldn't admit that too loudly." Yeah, my voice can carry sometimes. Is he joking again? It's hard to tell when you've known somebody for like all of five seconds. The food arrives, but I notice he didn't order anything.

I raise an eyebrow. "Hey, aren't you hungry?"

He get's a weird look on his face, but it doesn't last long. "Naw, I had a big breakfast."

"Suit yourself." I dig in, and I probably made a pig of myself, but I couldn't really make myself care. After what I've been through, if I'm not Miss Manners, I could live with it. I notice he's keeping alert, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was packing around a gun of his own. Maybe he had been in the military, I speculate to myself as I finish up my meal. It's something I can definitely picture. I mentally shrug, downing the rest of my sprite. I can't seem to kick this thirst.

"How's your hand?" he asks when I'm done.

I glance at the noticeable bandage, sighing. "It's fine. If that was the worst thing that happened last night, I'd be in good shape." He nods and I get the feeling he's the kind of guy that understands what a crisis feels like. "Are you going to tell the DA?"

"That I found you?"

"About me and Jack," I correct him, biting my lip. I guess it doesn't matter now, since I'm not going back and all.

"All I plan on doing is what I was hired to do." He cocks his head, trying to read me, I guess. Do they teach that in private detective training, some kind of P.I. 101? "Secrets like that do have a way of coming out, though."

"Is Officer Colden dead?" I blurt out. I've been hoping he was just hurt or something.

"Yes. I'm sorry." He sounds like he really means it.

"Me too. He was a nice guy, tried to make it easier…" I trailed off, feeling a catch in my throat. I thought I was getting used to guilt, but apparently it doesn't get any better. "Was it quick? Do you know…if…"

"It was quick," he confirms, looking me straight in the eye, voice clear. "The killer got in a clean shot, near the heart. He didn't feel much pain." The fact he elaborates convinces me more than anything he's telling the truth, not just trying to make me feel better.

"Okay." I'm not sure that makes it better, but it's something. "He's got kids, you know."

"No, I didn't." His voice is quiet, solemn, and it hits me that he really does care. I think that's the point I started trusting him, even though I didn't consciously realize it at the time. "You still thirsty?" he asks.

"Yeah." I give him a tiny smile, and he smiles back. When he goes outside to the machine to get something cold, it did occur to me that I could make my exit while he was busy, clean and fast. All the same, my butt stayed rooted to the chair. A busboy comes and takes my plate and empty glass. He gives me a flirtatious grin, but I just ignore him. Looking a little sheepish, he hurries off.

I study my hand, feeling the sting, remembering my hasty clean-up job. Which get's me thinking about Jack's house, which get's me thinking about old times with Jack, which is a really dangerous place to go, especially right now. I'm really glad when Mick comes back with the water. At least he's a distraction.

"Thank you." I take the water, bracing myself. I know he's going to start asking the hard questions soon.

"So why were you working for Fayed anyway?" It kind of strikes me as funny that he'd be able to connect the dots about me and Jack, but not about my employment record. Then again, maybe he does know, and is just testing me, to see how honest I'd be.

Either way, I decide to save the commentary, and just answer him. "I was his daughter's nanny. It's not Mara's fault her dad's a sociopath."

Mick doesn't exactly rush to argue with my analysis. "What happened?" His eyes go watchful, absorbing every detail. Searching for lies? Searching for clues?

I take a breath, not wanting to go there, but feeling like I had to. "I went downstairs to get Mara a glass of water, and I heard shouting. It was the night Mr. Fayed found out that Jack was talking to the cops. Fayed just lost it. Right there in the living room, he just…shot Jack. I couldn't even scream. I mean, it was like I was frozen." I was proud of myself that I was able to get it out without bawling. It helped that this time around I wasn't getting interrupted a million times with questions, or with lame attempts at comfort.

"Probably saved your life." His voice is kind, like he's my friend or something. _But he's not your friend, _I remind myself. _He's out for the paycheck, to hell with your safety._

I decide to cut through the bullshit. "Oh, I see what you're doing. Trying to be all friendly, all 'you can talk to me.' I already told you, I am not testifying."

He shoots me a 'what the hell' look, making a confused gesture. "You went to the D.A. You wanted to testify." Like I don't remember on my own, thanks. Yeah, well that was before, but I can't exactly say as much. "You cared so much about the guy; don't you want to see some justice for him?"

Okay, that's it, I've had it. "_Jack_. 'This guy?' His name is Jack." I get up, half planning to blow this popsicle stand. This private jerk is just like everybody else. "And I got him killed." I walk over to the door, but for some reason, don't walk through it. I just stare at the sun scorched area, wishing I could go back in time. But I can't, I'm stuck with now.

Mick comes up to me, and I wonder what angle he'll play now. "Hey. I'm sorry." Damn, he sounds like he means it.

"He's not just some thug. He was a good guy trying to go straight." I want that crystal clear right now, or he can just forget it.

"For you."

I smile, thinking about how much we loved each other. At least I could say to my grandkids, when I was over the hill, that I'd really loved and been loved in return. "Yeah, for me."

There's a pause and then he's surprises me with one out of left field. "You're protecting the baby."

Whoa, back up the train. What the hell? He might be good, but unless he's a psychic, there's no way he'd know. "How did you know I'm pregnant?" _Answer carefully, buddy, _I mentally warn him.

"It makes sense. You ran instead of calling Josh because you knew it wasn't just your life you were risking anymore. Right?" I give a tiny nod. His explanation sounds convincing, but more importantly, normal. These days, anything normal is a big bonus.

"Now you get why I can't go back," I tell him.

"I _understand_. You're probably thinking if you back off, Fayed will take the heat off you, and you can make a life for yourself and your baby." I feel myself relaxing. Maybe he's not a private jerk after all. In fact, the longer I'm around him, the better I feel. "But Leni, it doesn't work like that. He knows you saw, and he's not going to let that go. Whether you testify or not, he'll keep coming after you."

"Yeah, but when he sees I'm not a threat-"

"He won't see it that way." Mick guides me back to the table, still careful not to actually touch me. "Fayed's not the type of guy to take chances like this. You're a liability, and even if you weren't, the fact you went to the D.A. was like a declaration of war. We're not talking about a man on an even keel, here. You used the word 'sociopath' didn't you?"

"Then I'll go where he can't find me," I insist. If he thinks I'm just going to cave, he's got another thing coming.

"Leni," he says patiently, "there isn't a place like that. He's got more money than the IRS on tax day, he's got connections, and he's got access to information you wouldn't believe. If he wants to find you, he will." He's meeting my eyes, letting me know he's not messing around.

He's right. I don't know what I was thinking. Oh, wait, I really wasn't. The walls feel like they're closing on me. Am I screwed no matter what?


	4. Juvenile Delinquent?

I sat at the table, sipping my water. Mick was off by the diner window, eyeballing the parking lot through the blinds. The alone time gave me time to obsess. I know, I know, I was trying to be 'live in the moment' girl, but I mean, how could I not think about the future? It's not like I could pack this kid around until I was 40. In six months, give or take, I'd have a breathing, peeing baby, and I was the mom. It was a kind of no-refund-no-exchanges type gig. If people learned to parent by example, my kid just won a non-paid ticket to a boat load of therapy. You know how I said my parents were losers? It bears repeating: My parents were and are total losers.

Where they abusive? Naw, that'd take a little thing called effort, you know, the thing normal parents exert. They believed in letting me 'express myself verbally and physically without the damaging effects of parental oppression.' Translation: 'Do what you want, eat the whole friggin' box of cookies, don't do your homework, watch R rated movies, just shut up.' I learned real quick, real early on, that either I'd sink or swim, they were too busy finding themselves to care. Yeah, in the sixteen years I lived with them, my mom found herself genital herpes, my dad found himself a stint in prison for fraud. Last I heard, my mom's on her sixth marriage that requires a lot of make-up, (if you get my meaning) and my dad's serving five to ten for a credit card scam. Something to put in the old scrapbook, huh?

I guess the reason I waited until I was almost 21 to get my cherry popped is 'cause I didn't want to be like my mom. There's no way of sugar coating this, she was a total skank. She had to do a paternity test for me; the lucky sperm donor could have been one of seven different guys. My 'dad' isn't even the one, he just happened to be her longest running boyfriend, and he made pathetic little attempts to 'be there for me.' You know, it could've been worse. My biological dad, from what she told me, was a total pervert. She didn't know it at the time when they hooked up, but how well can you know someone when you bang them like after a whole whopping five minutes of conversation? Yeah, he committed suicide in the middle of his trial for raping a five-year-old girl. A real prince, eh? Yeah, all this went down weeks before I was born.

I dodged a major bullet, that guy not being in my life. I could have been really messed up for good. So, it's not like I'm trying to be all 'boo-hoo, look at my horrible childhood, please feel sorry for me.' It wasn't exactly the stuff Shirley Temple flicks are made of, but it doesn't stack up to a lot of the freak shows some kids gotta live through. Still, I want better for the baby growing inside me, you know what I'm saying? The question was, could I pull off being a good mom?

Maybe it was selfish, but adoption wasn't even gonna happen. I was healthy, and it wasn't like I was still in high school or something. Okay, so I was in this alone, but I was hardly the first single mother without a safety net. Besides, this was Jack's baby, a baby we'd made in love. I wasn't going to turn my back on that, just because it'd be hard work. It'd change my life, but I was willing to deal with that.

Then it hit me that the only thing that I should worry about dealing with was my stomach, since all of a sudden, I felt like I was going to hurl over the semi clean table. Yeah, that'd just be icing on the cake at this point. I get up, trying not to be all obvious, which means running like hell for the bathroom is out. Still, I sure don't take my time. I feel the bile rising up in my throat, and when I swallow, it leaves the area raw.

I barely make it to the toilet before I literally lose my lunch. I quickly flush the toilet and stagger to the sink. There's a lady with her little girl, at least I think it's her little girl, and the kid's shooting me looks. I can't blame her, since I probably look one step away from passing out on the grimy floor. Geez, when's the last time someone cleaned in here? Was Kennedy still in office? I watch the mother and daughter duo, feeling a little intimidated. The woman's got this cool, efficient way of handling things, like it's no big deal. Is that what I'll be like? Or will I be one step away from the puzzle house all the time?

Just as they're leaving, the door opens, Mick appearing. The mom shoots him a 'what the hell' look, but he handles it okay. Like in an old movie, he touches the end of his baseball cap, giving them plenty of room to exit. He quickly shuts the door, probably not wanting to make a big display about going into the ladies' room.

I quirk an eyebrow at him, but he seems genuinely concerned. "You okay?"

_Come on, Mick. I'm pregnant. I don't have cancer, _I almost tell him, but he's really being cool, and I don't want to be a bitch about it. "Yeah. I'm almost three months in. I hear it get's better."

He nods, an encouraging energy pouring off him. "It's all gonna get better."

_I'll believe that when I see it, _I think, but don't go there. "You got kids?"

"No. No I don't." The smile he's sporting is kind of rueful, and there's a quick flash of pain in his eyes. I have the feeling that not having kids isn't because he wanted it that way. _Oooh, back story there, _I think to myself. Doubt he'd spill to a virtual stranger, though.

"Well, if it's a boy, maybe I'll call him Mick." Hey, there's less personal ways to get a name. My mom named me after the nurse at the free clinic. His name was Lenny Rogers, and she just went with it, 'cause she sure as hell didn't take the time to think ahead.

He thinks about that, and then says something that's so nice; it makes me want to bawl. "You should call him Jack. Jack's a good name."

"I want justice for Jack. But…" I can't stand the compassion in Mick's eyes. Why couldn't he just be a private jerk? No, he had to be a genuinely nice guy, and that's making it harder. About ready to indulge in that bawl session, I start to move past him, get away. Specifically where, I have no idea, just away.

He stops me by gently putting a hand on my arm, the touch non-obtrusive. I can feel his stare on my face. "Look at me." I do, seeing a firm sincerity etched in his expression. "You come with me. I'm gonna protect you both." He shoots a quick glance at my belly. "I promise."

Tears sting my eyes, and I've got to fight back a sob. It's the fact that he included us both, and I feel like the baby finally matters to someone besides me. Okay, like no one could care about the baby if they don't know about it, but you're expecting rational? The point is, he gave a damn, about my baby. As a mom, that's gotta be tops, right?

"Okay?" he asks.

"Okay."

He flashes a tiny smile, then gestures with a jerk of his head. "Let's go."

If we could have left right then, things would have been a lot easier. Would've been less of an adventure, for sure, but that's not always bad. 'Adventure' is not always a positive word. Trust me, sometimes good old-fashioned boredom beats adventure hands down. But as I was to learn, life around Mick means lot's of adventures. This was just the first of many.

A patrol car pulls up in the parking lot. Mick mutters something under his breath, probably something that would get bleeped on TV, but I couldn't make it out. "Problem?" My voice is kind of calm, since I'm trying not to freak out, but Mick's a pretty mellow guy, and if he's not happy…well, you do the math.

"I told Josh I didn't need an escort. I'm not big on bureaucracy and all the red tape that's goes with it." Hey, there's a score for him. That's another reason to like him.

"Well, it can't hurt. Extra protection is a good thing, I guess." I point out, trying not to add to the bummer factor.

Mick ignores my trip to the bright side. "That was quick. Josh said within an hour…it's only been ten minutes…if that." His eyes go thoughtful, and I can tell he smells a rat. Suddenly, I've got that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, a warning bell going off in my head. "Leni, go back in the restroom."

"Why?" Well, that sure doesn't make me feel better.

"Trust me. Go," he insists, giving me a gentle nudge. I decide to keep my mouth shut, and listen to Mick. I mean, if the guy seems to know what he's doing, and if I don't listen to him, he can't watch my back right. I go back into the restroom, but keep it open a crack, so I can listen. I had to strain, but I figured I'd be able to make it out. I didn't have to wait long.

"Mr. St. John?" an unfamiliar voice asks. "I'm Officer Clark, Victorville P.D. I'm supposed to give you an escort back to LA." Nothing, zip, nada from Mick's end. There's a pause.

Then Mick's talking. "I told the DA I didn't need an escort."

"I just know what I was told," the cop responds.

"Must be hot in that jacket today," Mick comments.

"I never got hot." _Well, good to know,_ I think to myself. _Now I'll be able to sleep tonight._

"Cold as ice, huh?" I wonder why Mick's making with the small talk. I mean, really, who cares?

"Something like that. Your girl ready to go?"

"Yeah, she's resting up in the ladies' room. I'll, uh, go get her." There's another pause, a little shorter this time. "You know what? She's a little overwhelmed at the moment. Why don't you wait here?" Ugh, the guy was gonna follow him in? Geez, two guys in the girl's room would have been a little much, and like why would he need to follow Mick? A kindergartner can go get someone.

"Sure," the cop agrees, like he's doing us some big bad favor.

I move back, giving Mick room to come in. He doesn't say a word, and I know I should start worrying even more. He just gestures to the bathroom window. He wants me to hop out the window? I give him an incredulous look, and he gestures again. He doesn't look like he's messing around. With a sigh, I move over, opening it up. I'll fit, but I'll need a boost. Mick opens it up, and easily hoists me, so I can crawl out. I slide my legs around and hop to the ground. Maybe it's not the most graceful thing he ever saw, but I didn't make an idiot out of myself by landing on my butt.

Before I really saw how, he's beside me, gently taking my hand. Again, the touch is non-obtrusive. Heck, it even makes me feel safe. I start to head for his car, thinking that's the plan, but he shakes his head, pointing to the patrol car. "Mick forget it." I protest. Has he lost it? "You can't just steal a patrol car. You don't have the keys for one thing."

"And that's a problem?" he retorts. "Come on."

"Why couldn't we just take your car?" Even as I'm asking, I let him maneuver me to the police vehicle. I get in, hoping that I'm not trusting the wrong one here. Mick is on my side, right? What if he was really one of Fayed's boys, and he's trying to keep me away from the police? _No, Mick's a good guy, _I tell myself. I can feel it in my bones.

It takes him a couple minutes to hot wire the car. "I'm out of practice," he tells me, almost sheepishly. Now whether that's from the fact that he can do it at all, or that he's rusty, I can't tell.

"Were you a juvenile delinquent or something?" I ask as he takes the car into drive.

"My uncle was, and he taught me," Mick informs me, and we peel out of the parking lot, kicking up dust.

"What's going on?" I ask once we're out on the open road. I slide on my seatbelt. As fast as he's going, we could crash. "Why'd we steal a cop car?" You know, I'm still fuzzy on that point.

"To put miles between us." And we couldn't have done that in your car? I almost ask. He's messing with his cell phone. "Damn it. Still no signal."

"Miles between who?" That cop? Why would we need to do that?

"Us and the guy sent to kill you."

Okay, he's officially got my attention. "What? How'd he find us?"

"Doesn't matter. Now it's about losing him." I'd twisted around in the seat, looking for any pursuers. At least I didn't see any. I settle back in my seat, trying not to have a nervous break-down. I tried to focus on the positive. At least we'd gotten away.

All of a sudden, Mick's focusing awful hard on the side mirror, taking his shades off, and his expression's not of the good.

"You had to piss off an arm's dealer, didn't you?" That comment and the weird sound behind me has me looking behind me, and I see a helicopter. Yeah, a friggin' helicopter! Then, like in some James Bond flick, a missile ejects, headed right for us!

"Look out!" I cry.

"Hang on." Somewhere, behind the hysteria taking over my brain, I absently make a note of the fact Mick sounds awful calm. He jerks the steering wheel hard, and we slide into the next lane. The missle makes contact with the hot soil near the side of the road. My body jerks hard against the seatbelt as we make a less than gentle stop.

"Get out," Mick orders as he leans over to yank open the door.

"What?" My mind's spinning and I can't seem to focus.

"Do it. Get out, get out." I unhook my seatbelt, scrambling out, not sure what kind of plan he's got up his sleeve, or if he's even got one. I'm on my knees beside the car now, the hot pavement burning into my knees through my pants. "Shut the door." I do it, hearing the damn helicopter's whirl in the air.

I'm running for the cover of the brush, bothering to glance behind me to see if Mick's okay. He's exited the car, doing a neat summersault onto the pavement. Then he's up and running. The police car we jacked is cruising down the road, and you'd never know nobody's at the wheel. I guess that was the idea.

I land near the brush, so scared, feeling like I'm going to wet my pants. I feel better when Mick dives beside me, and I yank on his jacket to bring him closer, so he doesn't get spotted. We both watch as the helicopter from hell let's loose another missile. This time, it hits the car, which goes up like a firework on the 4th of July. I swallow hard, picturing the two of us in there. It's not a pretty visual image. We'd be two crispy crisps. Then the helicopter flies off, probably off to report to Fayed that the mission was accomplished.

Me and Mick get up, watching the wreck that was a car. The hot sun is burning us both, and desolate desert stretches out around us, and we've got no water, no nothing.

"Great," Mick announces sarcastically. Yeah, that about sums it up. Now what?


	5. No Fairy Tale

"Are you okay?" Mick asks me. I decided to suck it up and take the high road. I mean, it's not his fault we're in this jam.

"Yeah, just a little freaked out." Actually, I was a lot freaked out, but some instinct told me that things would be hard enough without me bitching about it. "Are you okay?"

_Too bad he lost his sunglasses, _I mentally note as he answers. "Yeah, I will be as soon as we get out of here." Almost on cue, I suddenly hear sirens in the distance.

"The police. You think we can still trust them?" I hope I don't sound as desperate as I feel when I ask that question. I really don't want to get personally acquainted with the desert. I mean, yeah, I'm a Californian girl, so I can take heat, but there's heat and then there's like an oven. Mick's checking out his cell phone, but I can tell he's not getting a signal.

"I'm probably going to regret this," he says, "but we're not staying around long enough to find out. Come on."

Ah, shit, he's serious. Still, we aren't exactly up to our necks in options. I'm seriously starting to wonder if somebody up there hates me. What next? Rattlesnakes? Dust storms? Swarms of locusts? Still, I bite the bullet, trying to act like a mature adult. You know, Mick's doing his part, I gotta do mine.

At least I'm not doing this alone. I think I'd go nuts if I had to wander into the middle of nowhere by myself. The ground under my feet is hard and baked, not sandy. At least I don't have to worry about lugging around a pound of sand in my boots. I shrug out of my sweatshirt; tying it around my waist, wishing I could peel off more layers, but I'd just get fried, since skin not used to major exposure is way more sensitive. That's the only reason, screw the modesty part.

"What now?" I ask, trying not to whine.

"I don't know," he admits. "Staying alive sounds pretty good."

Mick's trying to sound all glib, but I know that he's worried, scared even. In the diner it seemed like he had all the answers and maybe he did, but the game flipped at some point. Now he's just playing it by ear, just like I'm doing. My clothes are starting to stick to me, my feet sweaty. Hell, everything on me feels sweaty. It'll be hours before the sun goes down, and I already feel like I'm going to drop.

_One foot in front of the other, Hayes,_ I tell myself. I was determined not to wimp out five minutes into the whole thing. If I could just keep my brain busy, and not dwell, maybe things wouldn't suck so bad. It's all mental, you know? You've got to fool yourself sometimes.

"We'll stay alive," I assert, trying to sound confident. "I mean, Fayed thinks we're history. You don't try to kill people that are dead, right?"

My traveling companion mutters something under his breath, but I think it's something about the sun. He's talking at an audible pitch before I can ask. "True. Everybody'll think we're dead, until forensics finds out the car was empty. If the leak isn't plugged, it'll get back to Fayed you're live and kicking."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I notice he didn't say _we_. What was that about? I decide not to nitpick. Besides, I'm totally confused. "Sorry, you lost me. Leak? Plugged? Huh?"

He let's loose a low chuckle, but he doesn't look like he finds much funny right now. He looks like hell, all pasty and shaky. Oh, and really dried out. "Lindsay thinks Fayed's got someone working the inside, reporting back to him."

"Like a spy?"

"Like a spy," he agrees, almost croaking his words. "Like that cop was working for him, probably the one who did the safe house murders."

"I didn't get a look at his face. I was a little busy trying to get away," I defend myself.

"You did good, Leni," Mick assures me, stumbling a little. Oh, God, he's not going to pass out is he? I don't think I could drag him! And if I left him behind, wouldn't vultures come? I saw this one movie once where this guy broke out of jail, and got stuck in the desert, and this one buzzard kept tailing him. It was like really creepy, but at least we don't have that kind of company.

Something's been bugging me, so I decide to find out. "How did you know he wasn't legit?"

"The ID was fake," he answered thoughtfully. "I've seen enough badges in my time to tell. My old man was a cop, so I've been around law enforcement since I was a kid." More than a little wistfulness settled in his voice, and I've got the feeling Mick's dad is dead. "Plus, the uniform was off."

"It was?" Since I didn't really see the spy in question, just heard his voice, I'd have no way of knowing. Still, it was definitely a good thing Mick had me duck into the bathroom, or we would have had a lot harder of a time getting away.

"The jacket was wrong. He shouldn't have been wearing it," Mick explained, sounding winded. He doesn't seem out of shape, it must be the heat that's getting to him. "None of the other Victorville PD had those jackets. It's southern California, why would they?"

"Why do you think he was wearing one, then?"

"I guess he didn't do his homework." I can tell by Mick's tone that there's another reason he caught on, but also that he doesn't feel like sharing. The conversation is closed, I can tell.

The further we get out, the more sand we find. Oh, great. Just friggin' fantastic. Maybe I will be dragging around extra weight in my boots after all. I look around us, hoping for a building or something, with a working AC hopefully. Of course all I see is nothing, nada, zip. I glance at Mick, hearing him groan. He's still with me, still moving, still not looking good, but I probably don't look so great myself. Who would? I wonder how come he doesn't take off that black jacket. Doesn't he know about black and heat?

He's reaching out for me, tugging at the jacket around my waist. He drapes it over his head, trying to block out the sunlight. Well, whatever helps, right? I help him adjust it, feeling protective of him. Weird, huh? I don't even really know this guy, but I kind of feel like he's my friend, and that I should watch out for him. I guess being up a creek without a paddle kind of makes you feel sentimental. At least if we don't make it, I won't die alone.

_Melodramatic, much? _I snapped inwardly at myself. I needed to get prospective and fast. We weren't like in the Sahara or something. Now that would be something to bitch about. I survived an assassin, (twice) and two missiles. I wasn't going down for the count because of high temperatures, that was for damned sure! I had too much to live for to think any other way.

My inner pep talks or not, Mick wasn't holding up so good, and it was really starting to scare me. "You look dehydrated. Do you wanna stop for a while?" Maybe it was a dumb idea, but I just wanted to help somehow, and maybe the steady pace was making him worse. Also, I wanted to hear him say something to assure me his brain wasn't getting fried.

He's quick to shoot me down. "We can't." Like to prove that to himself, he moves it along a little faster, and I let myself fall behind for a minute, watching him stagger along. He seems like he wants the space. I wish I was like the chicks in the movies. You know, the modern mold that can kick ass, make with the witty quips, always have a life saving gadget up their sleeve, be super hackers, and never have a bad hair day. Too bad I was just plain Leni Hayes, pregnant damsel in distress galore. From the looks of it, my hero was in some major distress his own self. Well, one thing was for sure. This wasn't no fairy tale.

After a while, he starts to fall behind, and we fall back into step pretty quick. At one point, he lurches forward, and I have to grab him fast. I grunt, and we both almost take a tumble into the sand. "Steady there, Mick," I whisper, trying to smile.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "You okay?"

"Me, yeah. You, not so much," I tell him bluntly. He doesn't exactly argue the point. "Here, lean on me."

"You're in no condition to-"

"Listen, I'm pregnant, not handicapped. And right now, I'm in better shape than you." That shuts him up, and I'm glad. The fact he's a gentleman is cute, but we don't have the luxury right now. He leans on me like I said, but I don't think his system's giving him that much of a choice. I keep one arm around him, one hand on his arm. He clutches my sweatshirt with desperation, like it can save him or something. His complexion is getting even paler, if you can believe it.

He stumbles, his breathing getting ragged. My arms are starting to get sore from this whole set-up, and he can't keep going like this. I stop for a minute, about ready to burst into tears. Then I see the most beautiful sight, something that almost has me screaming for joy, and hopping up and down.

"Mick, look," I tell him, pointing at the cluster of buildings up ahead. I nudge him forward. Maybe he can tell I'm getting tired, because he tries to go off on his own, but he just ends up weaving around, kind of like a drunk. Boy, I bet he wished he could have a drink right now. Believe you me, if I wasn't pregnant, I could knock back a few right now. Before long, we're back to me holding him up, more than ever. No, I'm not supporting all his weight or we'd be on the ground. He's making an effort, but I'm still feeling it.

It turns out the cluster of buildings, was an old motel. There's about three sections of it. Kind of reminds me of a ghost town, but it couldn't have been abandoned all that long, because it's not falling apart on itself. Well, not yet, anyway. The wind kicks up, which is kind of a mixed bag. I mean, even if the air is hot, at least it's not weighing down on us anymore. I mean, it was so hot, I was having trouble breathing for a while back there. The down side was the sand was getting all over the place. _I'm gonna have grains of sand in places I forgot I had,_ I grumble in my own head, but decide to keep it myself. Mick doesn't look like he's in the mood for idle chit-chat.

The door to the room is locked. "Now what?" I moan, unable to play at being brave another second.

"Lock is old…not very good…won't take long…" Mick grits out. He takes out a packet of some kind from his jacket pocket. Oooh, lock picking kit, how very handy.

Tears of relief sting my eyes. "Never leave home without it?"

He ignores my attempt at levity. I hear the packet fall to the ground about the time he pushes the door open. My sweatshirt goes by the wayside as he inches into the room. Nope, the place can't be totally abandoned, because there isn't much dust in the room, or giant cobwebs. Maybe it's a seasonal thing.

I reach out, and briefly touch his back, feeling helpless. "Um, maybe you should lie down?" I lamely offer. My stomach is a hundred knots, and I should feel better, because we're out of the oven, but Mick looks really bad. Is he sick? Does he have some kind of condition? He looks like he's dying or something. "Mick…"

He roughly knocks the baseball cap off his head, peels off his jacket. He's all hunched over, and I wonder for a second if he'll do a face plant right on the ground. "Find the ice machine. Get a lot," he tells me, voice low. I back up, feeling an inexplicable fear grip me by the throat. I felt like I was in danger or something…and the danger was in this room. _Come on,_ _not from Mick, _my mind protested. It was just the stress of the situation, it was getting to me. "Go," I hear him say, sounding more impatient this time around.

He's going in the bathroom, and my mind's running all wonky. Is he on drugs? Maybe he's going through withdrawals or something. _Come on, Mick's not the type to be on drugs, _I think to myself as I grab the bucket for the ice that I really hope is still there. But is there a type? I mean, come on, some of the most clean-cut yuppies around have tested the waters. And when I get right down to it, how well do I know Mick? The question hits me just as the bathtub turns on. Sure, he's been nice, and thank God he's here, but I can't be acting like I can make calls on what he would or wouldn't be doing.

Since that's an issue that can be tackled some other time, I go outside to find the ice machine. I run for it, praying that it's still stocked. Still, what are the odds?


	6. Ice and Phone Calls

I figured luck finally decided to throw me a bone, 'cause there was ice in that machine, more than enough. If I'd had the energy, I would have launched into a happy dance. I dug in with gusto, filling the bucket, remembering that Mick wanted a lot. Man, I'm really glad that I'm not psychic, because if I'd known what this day was going to entail, I might not have had the guts to keep going.

It's moments like this where you gotta wonder: What the hell happened to my life? Where's the exit, because I'm tired of this shit. I'm three months pregnant; I should be freaking out over doctor's appointments and pouring over name books. I shouldn't have to worry about deadly helicopters and desert heat. I shouldn't have had to worry about if my newfound buddy was really a functioning junkie.

_Life's full of tough knocks, Hayes. Get used to it, _I told myself, trying the tough love approach on myself. 'Shouldn't have to' wasn't going to cut it. The bottom line was Mick needed my help, and I needed his. Whatever his deal was, it wasn't my issue. As long as I believed I was safe with him, which I did, the rest was just details.

Before I went in, I checked out the mini-bar, and scored some pop and goodies for Mick, hoping that would perk him up. I'm not like I'm nurse material or anything, but I was doing the best I could. I took a deep breath, preparing to go back in.

Maybe I was out of shape, but the bucket felt like it weighed a ton. I took it slow, suddenly gripped by the fear that I'd overdo it, and get slapped down by a miscarriage. They say the first trimester's the trickiest. I was three months in, but it didn't mean I was out of the woods yet. It seemed like it took forever to get to the bathroom and 'what if' scenarios were buzzing around in my head, driving me nuts.

At first, I thought he was sleeping. He was plunked down, fully dressed, in a full tub of water. On one hand, I was glad he was dressed. I'm not a prude or nothing, but if he'd been naked, can we say awkward? On the other hand, I don't think I've seen anybody on purpose take a bath fully dressed. Geez, he must have been out of it. His eyes opened, something quietly desperate there.

"Ice," I announced, feeling mentally paralyzed.

He makes a tiny gesture towards the tub, as if big movements will tear him in two. I just decide to go with it, dumping the whole thing in. He makes these little gasping noises, and I'm wondering if this is all such a good idea as I turn off the faucet. I've heard of wanting to cool off, but this seems a little hardcore.

Hoping to distract him, I pull out my offerings. "I raided the mini-bar. For you."

He makes a face, knocking the items out of my hand. "No," he says weakly. Oh, God, is he diabetic? Is he going into shock? I don't know much about it, except it's bad, really bad.

I reach out to touch his face, almost yelping. He's on fire, he must have been up to 104 easy, and that kind of fever can fry your brain. "We have to get you a hospital. This is not just normal dehydration. Something is seriously wrong." It's my way of asking him to level with me. If he's on drugs, I didn't care at this point, but I couldn't do this alone. I sure as hell wasn't Wondergirl; I was doing good to save myself.

"No hospitals," he whispers, and I can tell that's the last place he wants to go. Well, that clinches it, he's an addict. If he was diabetic, he'd be screaming for the hospital. He knows that if he goes to the hospital, they'll find the traces of drugs in his system, and his reputation might be on the line. Or maybe he's trying to quit it, and the heat made the symptoms worse. "Just keep trying to get a signal. Call the number I gave you. Ask for Beth. Just talk to her. Only Beth."

"Who is she?"

"I trust her." Something about the way he says it makes me think he doesn't trust a lot of people. I have a feeling there's a lot to Mick St. John, maybe more than I want to know or have time to find out.

Trying to lighten the mood, I force a smile. "Hey. Is she your girlfriend?" _Or dealer, _I mentally fill in the blanks. It would explain why he's so gun-ho on having her and only her around.

"No. It's complicated." Normally, that kind of cryptic answer would get my curiosity racing, but he's fading fast, I can tell. There's no more time for joking around.

"Is there anything else I can do?" He's totally spacing out, his eyes blank. "Mick?" I prompt, so scared. Oh, please don't let him be dying, please, please, please.

He snaps back to himself, and I think he's as scared as I am. "Please, you must leave."

As freaky as he's acting, I think that idea sucks. "No, I want to stay here with you." He's all I've got right now, I don't want to be by myself. And if he's dying, maybe I can do something…anything.

"Call Beth. Go! Go!" He's practically begging me, and I know that if someone doesn't help, he will die, and it'll be all my fault. I can't let that happen, not a second time. I close the door, telling myself I can't lose it. Mick'll be screwed if I can't keep my head on straight.

When I pick up the phone and try the number, I'm not expecting it to ring the first try. I just about fall over from relief.

"Beth Turner," a miserable voice answers. That chick's been crying. After buckets I've let loose lately, I'd know.

Where to start? "Hi. It's Leni Hayes."

"Are you okay?" So, obviously she's in the loop, because she's asking that and not 'who the hell is this?'

Um, how to answer _that_? "Yeah." Aside from being one step short of a nervous break-down, I'm just swell. Still, why bitch at her? Besides, I don't even know her.

There's a frantic edge to her voice that clues me in that I'm not the only one that's at the end of my rope. "Is Mick all right? Can you put him on the line?"

_Oh, sure, then I'll have him climb Mount Everest,_ I thought glumly, but decided even sarcasm has its time and place. And really, like she had any way of knowing. "Um, Mick's not doing too good. We had to walk a couple miles to get to this old motel and…It was hot." _And I think he might need a hit of whatever he's hooked on, _I almost add, but decide to play it safe.

"But he's alive?" Dealer or no dealer, she cares, I can just tell by the way her voice sounds. That calms me down a little. I'm not in this alone.

"Yes." I stare at the door, wondering how temporary alive is going to be for him. "He's alive." For how much longer?

"T-Tell me where you are." Since she's my biggest and only hope, I don't waste time. I give her the address of the diner, then tell her our direction was Southwest 2 miles, as best as I could figure. I'm so glad my 4th grade teacher drummed direction into my head. I describe the motel, and she sounds pretty sure she can find it. We hang up, and I've got the feeling everything just might be okay.

I go into the bathroom, relieved I can finally give my new pal some good news. "Mick, I spoke to Beth. She's coming." The blinding glare of the sunlight is stabbing my eyes, and I go closer to the tub. My heart almost stops. He's just…staring, frozen. Dead? "Mick? Mick? Mick? Mick?" I feel like a broken record, but I can't stop saying his name. If I stop, he might really, really be dead. Finally, he kind of jerks, some kind of awareness filling his eyes. "Mick? Did you hear me? Beth's coming."

"Get out!" he yells. I stumble away from the bathtub, in mild shock. I remember how cool and together he was at the diner. It's like a total switch has flipped. He's got to be coming off something, it's making him flip out. "Get out, Leni! Get out now!" I decide to follow that not so gentle advice, before he get's really crazy.

I go out onto the porch, scoop up Mick's lock picking kit. I head to another unit, because I really had to pee. Even if Mick was right up in the head, I'm not using the toilet with an audience, thanks. It takes me what seems like forever to pry the lock open, although I'm sure Mick could have done it in seconds, no problem. I'm sure I looked like a dork, dancing around, trying not to wet my pants, like that's all I needed. I was pretty much resolved to finding a place outside, like you do when you're camping, but the door finally gave. I all but dashed for the bathroom.

Deciding I better not waste time, feeling a lot more comfortable, I hurry back to our room. Then there's the really fun part. You wait. Oh, and then you wait some more. The damn TV was out, but I doubt I could have really gotten into a show anyway. I paced, desperate to find something to with my hands. I started fiddling with the string around my neck, alternatively just about strangling myself with my own necklace.

Finally, oh, _finally_, the door swung open. She was pretty, with long blonde hair and a great figure. She wore a long, cream colored overcoat with a leather purse over her shoulder. "Leni, I'm Beth."

I tell you, I've never been so relieved to see anyone, or at least it felt like it at that point. I grasped her hands, hungry for contact, for human support. "You have to help him."

Her eyes were wide and anxious, and I knew she was willing to do whatever she had to do. Were the drugs stashed in the coat or the purse, I wondered absently. "Where is he?"

"In here." I led her over, grasping her hands so hard it must have hurt. "I think he's dying."

Fear, raw and naked, was in her expression. "Stay here." She probably thought it was too risky to let me see. Like I cared at this point. I just wanted him better.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was protectiveness. Or maybe I just felt like I deserved answers. Either way, I didn't move away from the door. Nope, I moved closer, pressed my ear to the thin barrier, able to ear everything crystal clear.

"Mick! Mick! Mick!" Beth was crying at him, and I heard splashing. My heart stopped for second. Maybe this time…was he…? "Stay with me. Stay with me," she was saying, and then: "Mick. You're burning up."

"I bit her. I'll die before I feed on her." What?! Oh, God, he'd lost it. He'd seriously lost it. His brain was shot, that had to be it.

Beth actually went along with it. "Mick, Leni's in the other room. She's fine." _No, actually, Leni is not fine. Leni is scared to death. Leni is confused, and Leni is about ready to lose it her own self, _I almost screamed through the door. Since that would have kind of blown the whole stealth thing, I forced my mouth to stay shut.

There's a long pause, is she injecting him or something? "I guess…I guess I am a delicate flower." He sounds more normal, not as whacked out as before. Still, his voice is weak and kind of strained.

"I guess you are."

"Take Leni back," he's telling her. Get her out of here. He's coming." A lump formed in my throat. He's giving up? He can't! He just can't!

"I'm not leaving." Thata girl, Beth!

He just keeps going, like he didn't even hear her. "You have to protect her now."

"You're dying." Duh! What did I say like two minutes ago? So, Beth, if you can't help him, call 911! Maybe he'll listen to you. I look at my watch. If she doesn't hurry up, I'm taking the decision out of both their hands, and doing it myself. Then: "I don't know how to do this, but I know you need it. So…" Doesn't know how to do it? Huh? Suddenly, I get the feeling that drugs isn't what either of them are talking about.

"No. Get out! Get out!" He sounds exactly like he did when he was yelling at me, but unlike me, Beth isn't taking no for an answer. Then again, she knows the script. I was dropped in during the middle of the play.

"You need blood." Blood?! She was going to give him a blood transfusion? Just what was she packing around in her purse? Besides, he hadn't lost any blood that I saw! It was the heat…it was the…

It started to fall together in my mind. Mick's strong reaction to the desert, (way worse than mine) how he didn't seem fazed by the ice, the way he was staring at my neck when he was supposedly just spacing out, how he was babbling about biting me, and now this. It hit me. Mick wasn't a junkie, he was…he was…my mind couldn't even wrap itself around the idea.

"No, not yours!" He sounds half sick.

"Look-" she's trying to say.

"Not like this!" Is there a good way to do…whatever it is he's going to do?

"I know you won't kill me, and I know you won't try to turn me either." She sounds calm, and she sounds like she knows what she's talking about. As for me, I'm about ready to pass out. This is just a little too much, all in one day, you know what I'm saying? "I've got this vampire friend who's been explaining this stuff." Oh, God she said it. There's no getting around it now. Mick St. John, vampire P.I., that's what I've been dealing with.

It makes my head spin. We were side by side in the desert, there were no witnesses, no one to hear me scream. I was supporting him, guiding him, my neck within easy grabbing distance. I must have been like a walking snack to him. Could he smell my baby's blood? I gag, just thinking about it, and freeze. Did they hear that?

Apparently not. "At some point, you're gonna have to stop me," he's instructing her. I stumble away from the door, crawling onto the bed, tearing seeping out. I muffle my sobs in the dirty pillow, not able to take it anymore.

"Jack, Jack," I whisper. "Baby, please." But no one answers me, I'm all alone.


	7. Disney Wisdom

I sat up, wiping my eyes. God knew I deserved the big bad privilege of falling apart, but what you get and what you deserve are two different things. I was still in danger, and maybe just not from Fayed's boys. There was a vampire in the bathroom. Geez, that's not a sentence you hear every day. Um, do vampires need to pee?

_Who cares?! _I yelled at myself in my head. _Eyes on the big picture, okay?! Kind of in the middle of a life or death thing. _Okay, either Mick was a vampire, or him and Beth were into some freaky role playing shit. I really wanted it to be the latter, but the more I thought about it, the more the vampire angle couldn't be denied. Right, so vampires don't burst into flames when they get a little sun, but obviously, too much and they're screwed. He was too far gone for cooling off to do any good. He needed actual blood. Ewww. Seriously. Ewww! Then again, I used to say that when Jack would scarf Tofu, so there you go. It's all in prospective, I guess. I think the Tofu's grosser, to be honest.

He could've just eaten, no wait…_fed_, yeah that's the word he used, off me, but he didn't. He was in serious need, but he didn't touch me. So, that's why he was all yelling in the bathtub, about ready to have a cow. He _didn't_ want to hurt me. So, does that make Mick just a really nice guy that needs some O positive from time to time? I mean, he didn't want to snack on Beth either, now that I think about it. Okay, so score one for fang boy.

That conclusion was all rational, but it didn't make me feel better, not right away. I mean, he was a vampire. A vampire! I'd been stuck out in the middle of nowhere with Count Dracula's cuter younger brother. Hmmm, I gotta wonder if Dracula really was a vampire and not just some psycho that liked playing around with pointy sticks. Maybe I could ask Mick, if I ever get the guts to ask him.

_If he was gonna hurt you, he'd have done it already, _I reminded myself. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead," he told me. Trust me, now especially, I was a believer. And I really liked Mick, you know? He was a cool guy. I wanted to get to know him more, and find out what the deal was with this Beth chick. He said it was 'complicated.' Was that guy for 'We're friends with benefits?' Somehow, Mick didn't strike me as the hit it and bail type, but you never knew. He didn't strike me as the undead type either, and lookie, lookie. Either way, I wanted to really get to know him in circumstances that didn't entail taking a hike in the poor man's Sahara.

What was safer? Sticking with the vampire against the bad guys, or going it alone? Did I look like Buffy the vampire slayer? Maybe I was being hasty, but I was thinking option number uno. Score two for the undead.

But it was the line from a song in a Disney movie of all things that really made me think long and hard about Mick. Mara loved the _Hunchback of Notre Dame_, she cries for poor Quasi every time. I personally think it's a little dark for kids. I mean, you've got persecution, social issues up the ying-yang, chicks almost getting burned alive, and implied themes of rape. Frollo, yuck! No wonder Esmeralda spit in his face. Anyway, a lot of that stuff goes right over Mara's head, and she's seen it so many times, I can practically quote you the movie.

My point? Well, there's this part where the song asks: _What makes a monster, and what makes a man? _Fayed was human, I'm assuming, but he was a total monster. (Although he'd probably make Dracula look like Mister Rogers if he ever joined vampire ranks.) He kills people like most people kill cockroaches. Look at Mick. He was a vampire, a creature of the night, but he'd knocked himself out taking care of me, supporting me, being a friend when I needed one bad.

Well, I was going to return the favor. Mick St. John was my friend, blood habit or not. Not that I'd be cool with him sniffing at my neck, but as long as he kept his sharp incisors to himself, I could deal. And let's face it, I didn't exactly have a lot of people in my corner. So, I was being selfish, but I'd like to think I was also being very open and non-judgmental. Yep, I was a total non-judgment zone.

Getting all ready to pat myself on the back because I'd figured out one hell of a quandary, reality reared his fat, ugly head. I heard the car pull up. Something told me everything wasn't A-okay. Mick had said: "He's coming" to Beth. I jump off the bed, and look for a place to hide. The closet's looking like my only option.

It smells really gross in the closet, all musty. _Maybe I'm being paranoid, _I wonder as I close the door. _Better safe than dead, _I tell myself, straining my ears. I hear a sound, is it a door opening? I can't tell, it's so soft. Another barely audible noise follows, maybe the door shutting, but I can't tell. It's so weird, being alone in the smelly dark, wondering if it's your mind playing tricks on you. There's nothing for a really long time, and I'm going nuts.

Okay, I heard something for sure this time, a door closing. "Leni?" That's Beth talking. I almost answer her, but some instinct tells me to stay put, just in case. I put a hand protectively over my belly.

Then I hear muffled screaming, and a scream of my own works itself up my throat. Beth's in trouble! My muscles tensed to go out there…but go out there to do what? Fend off the bad guy with super duper karate tricks that I _don't_ have? And what if there's a gun involved somehow? Even if I _was_ ninja girl, I couldn't outrun a bullet, no way.

I hear a guy saying something, but it's too low to make out. I wring my hands, feeling so helpless. This guy had to be the assassin, the one that took out Officer Colden and Nagwa. And he'd shoot Beth just as easy, and come looking for me. It wouldn't take him long. It wasn't like there were a lot of places to look in this cockroach pit. And where was Mick? Had the blood worked? Was he too far gone? Was he dead anyway?

After a couple seconds, I hear some other muffled stuff, but it's impossible to really make anything concrete out of it. I'm biting my lip so hard, it hurts, and I let go real quick. I don't want to be bleeding, even a little bit. Mick might be one of the good guys, but is bleeding around a vampire a beauty idea? I didn't think so.

Then I hear Mick's voice. I think he said: "Are you okay?" Somehow, I doubt he's talking to the killer. I ease the door open, cautiously edge my way around the corner.

"Mick? Are you okay?" He looks okay. He's standing, and the color's back in his cheeks. _I guess a good meal will do that. _It's kind of gross, but I think a lot of things are gross. If blood saved his life, I can definitely deal.

He's looking at Beth, and she's looking up at him. She's looking kind of washed out and shaky, but I guess she would, right? There's this major tension in the room, and I have a feeling that he doesn't…um…_feed_ off her regular. I have a feeling that this is huge. I've kind of got to wonder who he usually get's his meals off of. Is the Red Cross involved?

"Yeah, I feel-I feel better." Oh, God, he sounds normal, like the Mick at the diner, and he shows a pretty brave attempt at what you might call a smile. I know in my gut I'm safe with Mick. I heard what he said: "I'll die before I feed on her." So, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to run across the room and hug him. I hang on tight, needing a hug like I haven't needed one in so long. He's holding me, and I close my eyes, savoring the contact. He still makes me feel safe, like it really is going to be okay.

I'd closed my eyes, basking in just the novelty of being held by a good friend, and maybe I should have kept them shut. Or maybe not, maybe I really did need to let myself blow off some steam. Either way, I did open my eyes, and saw _him_. I went from happy and relieved to pissed off in literally two seconds flat. He was lying on the ground, his neck twisted at a sick angle, his eyes staring blankly. But as far as I was concerned, this piece of shit had probably been dead a long time before his neck got snapped.

Abruptly, I shoved away from Mick, glaring down at the body. My back was to Beth, and I guess she thought I was all horrified or something. If she'd seen my face, she'd have known better. I could feel it twist in rage. "Don't look, Leni, it's okay," she tells me, her voice soft and tentative.

"No, it's not," I hissed. For the sheer joy of it, I kicked the bastard in the ribs. I must have done it hard, 'cause I heard a crack. "No, it's not!" I yelled. The rage felt good, and it was swallowing me up. Mick moved, but not to pull me away. He moved in Beth's direction, to help her up I think. I wasn't really paying attention.

I think I went a little crazy. I was yelling obscenities, some that didn't even make any sense, then I started beating the crap out of this guy, kicking, slapping, even scratching. Sure, I was desecrating a corpse, but you think I cared? He'd caused plenty of corpses, and would have had me join the body count, so boo-hoo. "Leni, stop!" Beth protested, sounding freaked out. I really didn't have much room inside to care. I just kept going. "Mick, do something!" she cried.

"I think she's entitled to blow off some steam," Mick informed her quietly. At least, I think that's what he said. I was a little preoccupied, you know? "Call Josh, Beth. Let him know what's going on."

My knees gave out from under me, and I fell in a heap by the killer's body, fresh sobs wracking my body. Before Jack died, I think I cried ten times that I could remember. Now it seemed like crying was all I ever did. Mick's arms were around me again, rocking me gently, kneeled down on the floor with me. Vaguely, I heard the motel door shut, Beth discreetly leaving us alone.

When the storm finally passed I sagged against him. "What now?" I whispered, feeling drained, as drained as Beth might feel.

"We go back, you testify, this guy get's put away." He made it sound so easy, but nothing about it was easy.

"And if he walks? If he has me whacked before I can testify? If he-"

"That's not going to happen," Mick insists, sounding real fierce. "I made you a promise and I'm going to keep it."

"And the other part?" I pull away so I can look him square in the eyes.

Mick hesitates, but there's a funny gleam in his eyes. Something in my gut tells me one way or the other, Fayed won't get away with what he's done. I mean, vampires probably break the law all the time, right? Maybe I should have been freaked or wierded out that Mick would potentially take the law into his own hands, but all I felt was a vicious kick of satisfaction. If Fayed got killed, you wouldn't see me lose any sleep.

I doubt Mick had any idea I'd guessed any of this. 'Cause all he says is: "One step at a time, Leni. Let's just get you back to LA safe and sound, huh?"

"Just your minor bonuses," I tried to joke. We got to our feet, and I knew that I'd made a bond for life. Well, my life anyway. I wonder if it's true vampires are immortal, or do they age like the rest of us? Is that why they drink blood, to stay youthful? Well, whatever the case, I didn't care if Mick was a vampire or not. He was stuck with me.


	8. Wierdness As Usual

**Author's Note**

Yeah, I know I haven't been doing these, since I send back private responses to my reviews. Still, there's been anonymous reviews sent to me as well, and they're just as important in my book. So, I just wanted to thank Ak, (who has reviewed every chapter) Steen, Twilight Witch, and Choir Girl for taking the time to give me feedback.

We're moving into unexplored territory with this chapter, and I'm pretty excited about it. Leni is taking bold steps into future storylines, both inspired from the series and from my own imagination. Enjoy the ride!

**Adventures With Mick St. John and Company**

You ever experience one of those killer silences? You know, the kind that seem to take on a life of their own, and kind of choke the air? The kind that strain until you want to scream just to break the God-awful quiet? Yeah, well that's what it was like on the ride back to the diner. It was probably only ten minutes, fifteen tops, but it was like that the _whole_ way. Then again, what came before it wasn't so fun either.

With Mick's arm hooked around me, we met up with Beth outside the hotel. She arched an eyebrow, more curious than jealous or annoyed. Mick wasn't looking at her, he was looking at anything _but_ her, so he couldn't have caught the look. I think I heard a quiet huff of frustration from Beth, but didn't call her on it. Yep, I was doing the polite thing and ignoring the elephant in the room.

"I called Josh," she tells us. She flashes me a warm smile. "He's very happy to hear you're all right."

"I'm his ace in the hole. Of course he's happy." I don't think I was being a bitch, I just wanted to keep it real.

"We all want the same thing, Leni," she told me, like it was some big twist.

"I know that," I answered calmly, meeting her appraising stare. I didn't move away from Mick. For one thing, it was still felt really hot out to me, and he was still deliciously cool from his ice bath. For another, I felt like he was the only thing that was holding me up, literally and otherwise. "Is he pissed I took off?"

"He's sorry that you didn't feel comfortable enough to come to him, but he understands. Josh is very good at that." Mick shifted uncomfortably beside me, and Beth's sharp eyes caught the movement too. _Yeah, I bet he is, _I thought, filling up with sudden curiosity.

"So, how do you know Josh?" I prompted, giving Mick a gentle squeeze on the back.

Nothing for a long minute, there was a slight _something_ in her voice that was off. "He's my boyfriend."

"So, you're the reporter." Understanding smacked me upside the head, left me reeling with sympathy for both Mick _and_ Josh. It didn't take no Harvard grad to see Mick had it bad for the hot Miss Turner, and I would be willing to bet 20 she had a thing for him too. But she was Josh's girl, who was a genuinely nice guy from what I'd observed. Love triangles may seem all cute in comics like _Betty and Veronica_, but they're a bitch in real life, for everybody concerned, especially the two stuck at the bottom of the triangle. "You work for BuzzWire."

"Guilty. You ever catch a clip?"

"I've heard of it, but I still like to watch my news on TV. I guess I'm a old-fashioned girl." I tried to smile, but felt too tired to pull it off.

Apparently, Mick had enough with the chit-chat routine. "Beth, we'll have to take your car back to the diner. You need fluids, and I have to get my car."

"I'm fine," she insisted, her expression twisted by slight annoyance. I glanced at her arm. She wasn't holding anything to it anymore, and from the looks of it, the two puncture wounds had stopped bleeding. She wasn't looking as shaky, but she still didn't look at peak condition. I idly wondered how much he'd taken. A little more than at a standard blood donation, I was guessing. Well, he _was_ dying, so duh he took a lot. She was probably lucky she wasn't in a hospital or something.

Both Mick and Beth noticed me checking out her arm, and I saw them exchange worried looks. _Subtle, guys, real subtle, _I thought with an inner eye roll. What lame story were they going to feed me? That she tripped on a barbeque fork? Should I just put them out of their misery and let them know I'd listened in? I almost opened my mouth, and just closed it. No, there was enough heavy stuff going on right now. This wasn't the time to throw another wrench into the works.

"Does Josh know about our dead killer?" I asked, avoiding the issue altogether. I just didn't want to go through the routine of bullshit, you know? If either of them thought I was acting weird about it, they were probably too relieved to call me on it.

"I told him. He's sending the coroner and a team out as we speak."

"We should get going." I twisted my neck upward to look at Mick when he said that, and felt that sympathy go up a notch. He looked so sad, so lost. "I'm not really big on the authorities right now."

"Me either," I agreed with enthusiasm.

"The leak's been plugged," Beth tried to assure us.

"Fayed might have other plants," Mick countered. "I'm not taking any chances with Leni's safety, or yours. We're going…_now_."

"I'm driving," Beth informed us irritably.

"No, you're not," Mick argued. "You're climbing in the back seat and resting. _I'll_ drive."

"It's my car," she shot back. I leaned against her vehicle, rolling my eyes for real this time.

"I could drive," I volunteered.

"No," they both shot me down in unison. Oh brother.

I won't bore you with the details of the bicker fest. In the end, Mick won, and Beth climbed into the back seat, sulking. Yep, sulking. I think there was another reason Mick wanted Beth back there. He wanted to distance himself, use the seats as a tangible barrier. Poor guy, what he'd done this afternoon really was messing with his head.

Yep, then the silence came that I was talking about. I've never thrown myself out of a moving car, only been tempted when driving with my so-called mother, but I definitely thought about it once or twice on this fun little car ride. I wanted to scream for joy when I saw the diner, and Mick's Benz shrouded in the darkness. I thought I saw Mick's shoulders, like just for a second, sag when he saw it too. Now whether that was with relief or despair, I couldn't tell you. Do I look like a body language expert?

Beth's cell rang, and she answered it, sounding for all the world like she was headed to the big house to do twenty years of hard time. "Hi, Josh." Man, between the three of us, there was enough misery to fill up the Grand Canyon.

Mick parked the car, switched off the engine then was exiting so quick, he was almost a blur, leaving the keys in the front seat. So were vampires super fast, or was it just a Mick thing? I scrambled out after him, as Beth said, "We're at the diner." I know I couldn't fix what he was going through, but he'd been there for me.

"It'll be okay," I told him, practically jogging to keep up with him.

He stopped, flashed me a rueful smile. "That's my line, Leni."

"Do you got the copyrights on that?" We shared a grin, and I patted his shoulder. "So, other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?"

Mick chuckled. I mean, his heart wasn't in it, but at least it was _something_, you know? "I'm sorry about earlier," he apologized tentatively. "I wasn't myself, the sun…it really get's to me…but on top of everything else you shouldn't have been yelled at. I just-" He broke off abruptly when I started laughing. "And what, might I just ask, is so hilarious?"

"You," I managed, leaning over. It felt good just to let loose. I don't think I had a good belly laugh since before Jack died. Mick's expression just fueled the explosion of mirth. He has this way of really arching one eyebrow, man, that's a gift. The totally 'huh' look was kind of endearing on him, but not so good for my dignity. I finally calmed down enough to explain it. "It's just unbelievable, my friend. You were practically at death's door, and you're apologizing because you yelled at me? That's rich. You take chivalry to the next level."

"I had an old-fashioned upbringing," he drawled. Of course, now I was wondering just how old my new best friend was. He looked 30 but he might be 300! It kind of boggled my brain. "I wasn't as bad off as I looked."

"Yes, you were," I told him bluntly. "You were _dying_, Mick. I could see it in your eyes. Beth saved you."

The look in Mick's eyes was sharp, searching for answers, guessing, evaluating what I might know, or what I just suspected. There was, after all, an important difference. Suspicions could be placated, knowledge was different. Unless the person died or forgot, it was there. I stood still, wondering how much I should reveal, what was safe to reveal. I trusted Mick, but I didn't want to spook him. I needed him, and I think he needed all the extra friends he could get. To scare him off so early would suck big time.

"Leni, whatever you're thinking-"

"I'm thinking I'm hungry," I interrupted lightly. I needed to earn Mick's trust before I hit him upside the head with the big reveal. "Haven't been able to keep much down, you know? And I really could use some shut-eye. Ever tried to sleep on a crowded bus?"

"Yes, actually." I could have sworn I saw old ghosts in his eyes, but this was hardly story time.

"Then you know it's not exactly heaven on earth." I made a face at him, hoping to get another chuckle out of him. He did give me that kind of half smile, so I figured it was progress. "I wonder where I'll sleep tonight." I didn't want to whine, but going to another safe house wasn't exactly my idea of capping off the day from hell. More cops watching my every move, more thin walls, more lives in danger. I was so sick and tired of it, I wanted to just start screaming and never stop.

Mick touched my shoulder, tugging lightly on my hair. "Hungry, huh? I'll get something to go. We'll work the other problem out on the ride home."

"I don't have a home," I whispered when I was pretty sure he was out of earshot. And the only family I really had was growing inside of me. The last time I saw my mother, she was throwing me out of the house. "You gotta sink or swim, kid," she told me as casual as anything. "Life's a bitch. Get used to it." If had a dime for every time she said that.

"Hey," Beth greeted softly, looking as bummed as I felt. "Mick inside?"

"Unless he's made a run for it," I deadpanned. Beth just stared at me like I started singing in Chinese. "Joke, Beth. It was a joke. Don't tell me you've lost your sense of humor?"

"If there was ever a day that would do it…" she mused. She was kind of preaching to the choir on that one. "I'm sorry. It's been a lot harder on you, hasn't it?"

"Well, it hasn't been a picnic," I agreed. "At least I didn't get hurt, though." I gestured to her arm. Her eyes widened, and I could all but hear her think: _Shit, how am I gonna explain this one?_ "Chain link fence?" I supplied sweetly.

"Excuse me?" she blurted.

"Sure, the chain link fence," I explained causally. "The one right outside the crappy motel. I almost caught my own arm on it. I just figured that's how you hurt yourself."

I have to give her credit; she was quick on her feet, because she rolled with it as smooth as silk. "Yeah, I feel like a real dork, tripping over my own feet and all."

"It happens." Whether she really bought that I believed that, I couldn't tell. Maybe we both were playing the game, maybe I was playing solo. Either way, the crisis was avoided for the time being. "I don't remember you being hurt when you came in. Did it happen while you were outside talking to Josh?" Better she got her story straight now than have to fake her way through it later.

"We'd just hung up, and it was dark, and I wasn't looking at where I was going. Guess that'll teach me for not bringing a flashlight, huh?"

"Well, next time you get a frantic call in the desert, I'm sure you'll be prepared." I winked and the tension was broken up. Well, at least until Mick came back. Then it was back to weirdness as usual.

Still, before Mick came back, we did get a chance to just visit a little. It felt almost normal. Not quite, though. Then again, I felt like nothing would ever feel normal again. "So, you and Mick are real close, huh?"

Beth stretched out her legs, looking a little uncomfortable for some reason. Or maybe her arm was just bugging her. "He's a good friend. I'm sure you already know that."

"It's hard to miss. Are him and Josh buddies?"

Okay, she actually winced. Yep, that was a wince. "Uh, not exactly. Their schedules don't exactly mix and…" she trailed off, starting to flounder a little bit. I mentally filled in the blanks. _Not to mention, they both have a major thing for you. Josh probably feels territorial and Mick's jealous he didn't get to you first._

Since this whole mess wasn't anywhere near my business, I kept my analysis to myself. "Josh is pretty cool, for a lawyer and all. Most of them are assholes, out to screw you over. Not that I'm cynical or anything." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Nope, not a bit. Josh is real gun-ho about public service," she announced proudly. "I thought he was too good to be true at first, but he's everything that people should believe in."

Then again, so was Mick, and that's where the dilemma came into play. Again, just a hunch I was having. "Hey, you don't have to sell me. I've met him. He was…very nice to me when I came to him. I half expected him to blow me off."

"Well, Josh wouldn't do that. Then again, you didn't know that then, did you? It took a lot of guts," she complimented me. Since Beth Turner didn't strike me as a wilting violet, that was probably a pretty tall compliment from her.

"It took a lot of guts for Jack to go against Fayed," I countered. My voice came off more sharp than I meant it to. "Look where it got him."

"It'll be different for you. You've got Mick on your side."

"He's not Superman," I pointed out. "Still, he's no slouch, either."

"About Jack…" So Beth knew the inside scoop. When a reporter knows your secret, you're pretty much screwed in my opinion. "Josh needs to know the truth."

"There's only three living people that know," I argued. "And I don't think Josh needs to add up to number 4."

Beth probably would have argued with me about it some more, but Mick had exited the diner, and we both shut up.

Without really looking at her, Mick thrust a tall drink and what was probably a hamburger at her. He gave me the same. I sipped the sprite, the cool sweetness heaven on my parched throat. "Mmmm," I hummed to myself, flashing a grateful grin Mick's way. "Thanks, man. It's really hitting the spot."

"You're welcome. You can eat in the car. We better get going." He stopped and frowned. "You get car sick?"

"Worried about your baby?" I retorted, but smiled. I think it's cute how guys can be about their cars. "Well, I never used to get sick, period, but nowadays, I can puke at the drop of a hat. Don't worry, my body gives me fair warning. But I'm really hungry, so I think it'll stay down."

"I'm more worried about this baby," he informed me. He brushed his thumb against my belly. For the most part, an outsider couldn't tell, but I could already tell the difference. I mean, when you spend 22 years in a body, you can't miss it. My belly was rounder, my boobs tender as hell. "The baby needs nourishment, and if you can't keep anything down, it might be a problem."

"Don't worry; I've already gained ten pounds." I almost mentioned I'd gone up a cup size, but for Mick, it would be a case of TMI big time. "The baby's fine."

"Have you been to a doctor's appointment?" He was frowning at me, and I felt a stab of worry. I hadn't exactly had the luxury.

"Um, nope."

"You're going to see the doctor," he ordered me. Now, some people might get all annoyed; ask him who the hell he thought he was. But for one thing, he was right; I needed to see the doctor. Second of all, not a lot of people have been concerned for me in my life. A couple dedicated teachers and Jack. That was about it. I welcomed Mick's concern, even his authority, because it meant he gave a damn. And third of all, anyone who cares about my kid is okay as far as I'm concerned.

Beth cleared her throat, looking a little annoyed. She obviously wanted to say: _Hello. I'm still standing here, _but she didn't. I had the hunch that Beth was used to being the center of attention, especially where Mick was concerned. She was trying to be mature, especially since I was the distressed pregnant chick, but she didn't like being left out, I could tell. "What now?"

"Go home, Beth. Leni's going to stay with me, and we're going to see Josh in the morning."

"She could stay with me. That'd be a little less awkward, don't you think?" Was that an edge I heard in her voice? What, was she worried I'd jump the guy that wasn't her boyfriend? Did she think Mick would jump me? Okay, with me, she had an excuse, since we met like two hours ago. I could forgive her for thinking I might be a little needy. I mean, Mick is a hottie, a blind woman could see that. She couldn't possibly know how selective I was, and that I missed Jack so much sex with another guy right now was about as likely as Paris Hilton winning the Nobel Prize anytime soon. But Mick, she had to know him. He wouldn't have trusted her if she didn't know him. He was a gentleman, flat out white knight material. He wouldn't do anything that wasn't kosher.

"She'd be safer with me." Plus, I wanted to stay with Mick. Not because I had crafty designs, but because I felt safe with him. Sure, I hadn't known Mick a lot longer, but it felt longer. The idea of being with a stranger, even a nice stranger, made me want to hyperventilate. Mick squeezed my hand, as if he could read my mind. Beth caught the gesture, and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"I'm sure Josh will find her an alterative tomorrow." I hope the baby had room, because the knot in my stomach felt huge just thinking about tomorrow. Mick squeezed my hand again, sending me a reassuring look.

"She doesn't need to think about tomorrow," he said pointedly. His eyes softened; something perilously close to love with a grief chaser in his eyes. I don't think she saw it, since she wasn't standing right by him. And it was dim out, even with the parking lot lights. "Thank you for what you did today. Words don't cover it, do they?"

"I'm getting in the car," I announced, wanting to give them some privacy. They weren't even touching, but it was getting all intimate, and they might as well have been making out for how personal of a moment it was.

Mick didn't catch my subtle hint. He followed me, only briefly glancing at Beth. Well, at least that I saw. "Take care, Beth."

"Nice meeting you," I called over my shoulder, noticing how dejected she looked. I had the urge to slap Mick upside the head, and push him in her direction. Then again, if she did have a boyfriend, maybe it was better that poor Mick didn't get in too deep.


	9. Thongs and Broken Beds

I don't know what I was expecting out of Mick's place, but I've gotta say, I was surprised when I took in his loft. Don't get me wrong, it was nice and all, and for an added bonus, it was clean. So, I guess all bachelors aren't hopeless slobs. Jack instantly came to my mind. _Sorry, honey, _I mentally apologized. Okay, so yeah, Mick's place was clean. Heck, it was even trendy and seemed to have all the amenities. Still, and I know that this might have been corny on my part, but I couldn't help but think it lacked a kind of warmth and coziness that I would have expected from a man like Mick St. John. It was cool, but hardly homey, you know?

"Nice digs," I offered, not about to voic my opinions. I mean, what was I? The editor of _Home and Style_? "Lived here long?" I couldn't help but notice that there were no pictures, no personal knick-knacks, nothing to suggest a 'home.' Mick resided here, but his heart wasn't here.

"A while, yes." Mick smiled at me, that comfortable, reassuring quality about him at odds with the stylish, somewhat sterile environment. Still, it did have one awesome view, that was for sure. "Is there anything-"

"Um, can I use your bathroom?" The sprite had really caught up to me on the ride over, and the last twenty minutes in the car had been a real treat, let me tell you. He gestured up the stairs, and I made a mad dash, not caring if I looked like a dork or not.

As I was washing up, I looked around. Boy, the big shower sure looked tempting. I knew I probably smelled since I hadn't put on deodorant lately, and sweating like a pig doesn't do wonders for your personal fragrance. If it was true vampires had keener senses than the average person, then poor Mick must have been having a good day all the way around. Did Mick have a washer and dryer? My clothes were ripe; I didn't exactly want to slip them back on. That'd kind of defeat the purpose.

There was a knock downstairs, and I froze up. I kept seeing flashes of the craziness at the safe house, and for a second, I was one step away from panic mode. I shook my head, forcing myself to get a grip. I mean, vamp or no vamp, Mick was way too hot to have no life, so it was kind of a big duh that he'd have company once in a while. Still, I peeked out my head cautiously, tensing to run if I had to.

Mick strolled over to the door, his posture casual. Still, I noticed he had one handon the gun shoved into his waistband. After checking what appeared to be a webcam, he let his hand drop. He didn't hesitate at all when he swung the door open wide.

Obviously,since his back was to me, I couldn't see his expression, but his voice was friendly enough. "Hey, thanks man. I appreciate it."

I edged out of the doorway, hoping for a better look at the mystery arrival. It was some guy in an expensive suit. Armani maybe? _Gee, there's a lead, _I told myself.

The guy brushed past Mick, handing him a bag. "Well, you were a little vague on the size, but these should do."

"Sorry, I'll measure her next time," Mick shot back sarcastically. But since he'd turned around, I could see he was smiling. "Look, like I told you, as long as they're comfortable, they'll be fine."

I decided these two must know each other, there was just that vibe, you know? Like when you've known somebody forever. Whoever this stranger was, he was comfortable in Mick's space, and Mick was comfortable with having him in his space. Was he a vampire too? He was younger looking than Mick, almost boyish, with clean-cut looks, and a polished thing going on. Romance was the last thing on my mind believe me, but it's a little humbling being all gross in the same apartment as two hunks.

"I'm Josef, by the way." Mick's friend didn't even bother turning around and looking up at me when he introduced himself. Mick glanced up, but didn't really seem all that surprised that I was standing there. What, could they smell me or something? Then again, with all those gallons of sweat my body let loose today, maybe that wasn't even a vampire thing. Of course, they might just be tough to surprise, or they could have caught me moving out of the corner of their eye.

"Josef's an old buddy of mine," Mick explained as I started my way down the stairs. "Josef, this is Leni Hayes."

"I gathered," he said dryly. "It's not exactly like this place is crawling with women. A shame, really. I might come by more often."

The comment confirmed my formed suspicion that Mick wasn't exactly a himbo type. "Nice to meet you," I offered up, a kind of automatic response.

Something about the way this Josef character was staring at me made me feel uncomfortable. No, he wasn't leering at me, not like he would be, if I looked as bad as I probably smelled. I mean, excuse the hell out of me. How many chicks come out of hiking in the desert looking like beauty queens? Not to mention the last 24 hours have been one big stress fest overall. All the same, he wasn't looking at me like I crawled out from under a rock, either. That would have been understandable. No, his dark eyes were coolly appraising me, sizing me up like I was on some kind of auction block.

Mick noticed it too, because he shot Josef a 'knock it off' look. "I just had Josef bring you over some clothes." He offered them to me.

"Thanks," I said, making it a blanket comment.

"Thank Mina," Josef informed me. "She was the only one of my girls that owned any sweats."

"Girls?" I questioned, feeling one of my eyebrows go up. Somehow, I doubted he had any daughters old enough to my age. Mara's age would have been stretching it.

"My employees." The two words were loaded with suggestion, and Mick rolled his eyes like he was appealing to a higher power. "Mick called me, and told me that he needed a change of clothes for a friend of the feminine persuasion. He pegged your height correctly, but the sweats will be a little loose because of the limited selection. My associates usually don't do casual. Mick is an obvious exception."

"Obviously." He had almost a mesmerizing quality to his voice, and I almost felt myself getting lost in the hypnotic flow. I steeled myself, telling myself there was nothing cool about a guy that apparently bought his girlfriends. "Well, thank her for me," I told him coolly. "If you haven't already."

The guy was sharp, and caught the implication of my frosty attitude. The jerk actually smirked, and I had the feeling he got a kick out of rubbing people the wrong way. _When he's not rubbing them the right way,_ a cynical little voice in my head added. "I pay my employees well enough not to have to thank them. Call it a perk."

"I'm sure," I retorted, letting him know I wasn't impressed. Still, since he did just bring me clothes, I kept my mouth shut. I really wasn't any position to do anything else. This was Mick's apartment and Mick's buddy.

Mick cut in, not like I minded. "Leni, why don't you go upstairs and take a shower? It'll do you good."

"Translation: 'You stink,'" I countered playfully.

"Well, now that you mention it." Josef didn't even have the good grace to mutter that verbal bitch slap. Mick opened his mouth, looking like he was going to defend me, but I didn't need my battles fought for me on this level.

"Wow, be still my heart. I'm in the presence of a charm school graduate," I sniped at him. So much for keeping my mouth shut.

Mick snickered, shaking his head. To my surprise, he wasn't the only that seemed to be amused. "Just ignore him, Leni. Go on up now."

"No problem." I smiled at him, and decided to take his advice and ignore Josef. I was a little too old to get into a bicker contest with a potential vampire and definite player.

Twenty minutes later, feeling like a viable human being again, I finished drying off, and checked out Mina's offerings. It consisted off a silk dress shirt, probably one of Josef's castoffs. It made me want to reject it on principle, but I didn't exactly have much in the way of choices, did I? The so-called sweats made me snort. "Designer sweats?" I muttered. "Give me a break." Well, what can you expect from a Rent-A-Girlfriend? There was also a silk thong in the mix. I was a boxer's gal myself, and had never worn dental floss with lace before. Still, again, I'll stress the lack of choices I had at that point in time.

The feeling of my bare ass against material was a little weird, but wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't about to go out and buy out _Victoria's Secret_, but I'd survive the experience with minimal trauma.

Mr. Charm school had made his exit by the time I came downstairs, and I can't exactly say I was crying a river over it. "Feel better?" Mick asked.

"Oh, yeah." I flopped down on the couch next to him, stretching my arms above my head. "Now, just tell me you've got a comb and a toothbrush, and I'll be practically euphoric," I joked.

"Sorry, I don't have a lot of company," he apologized.

"Yeah, I figured." I winked, and I could have sworn he actually squirmed. Oooh, an easy mark, I hoped I had some time to have fun with this. "We could always just go to the store."

"Okay, but I'm not letting you out of my sight for a minute," Mick promised me.

I tensed up. "You think Fayed will try again?"

"He strikes me as the tenacious type," Mick drawled. "Look, I don't want to freak you out, I'm sure we won't have any problems tonight. But I don't want to cocky either."

"Yeah, I can get that," I told him. "Come on, let's get a move on. Not out of your sight, huh?"

"You've got it. Why?" Mick cocked his head, considering me.

"Just be glad I'm pregnant and don't need tampons." I wriggled my eyebrows, and stuffed my feet back into my boots. Yuck. Double yuck. I was going to have to re-wash my feet, and do something about these boots. They smelled mighty funky after their hard day's use. If they weren't from Jack, I might be tempted to toss them, but I'd never willingly part from anything he gave me. "Let's roll."

"By all means." Like the old-fashioned gentleman he was, Mick extended his arm, and I took it with a small giggle. Things were starting to look up, but I told myself I couldn't trust the sentiment. Tomorrow, I'd have to face the world, and the prospect of testifying against the man who had not only killed the only man I've loved, but tried to destroy me and my unborn baby.

Mick must have felt me shiver, his hazel eyes on me, searching for possible causes. We exited the apartment, and he locked it via the electronic way. I wonder what he did in a black-out. "Leni, besides the obvious, is something wrong?"

"I'm just scared, you know?" He punched the buttons for the elevator. "How can I face Fayed? I mean, he terrifies me. If that makes me a coward-"

"It makes you sane," he assured me. "Fear is what keeps us alive, Leni."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you going to give me the 'courage isn't the absence of fear, it's persistence in the face of fear' speech? I've heard it like a million times."

"No speeches, Leni. For one thing, you'd just have some smart-ass retort," the way he said that made it seem like he thought that was an endearing quality, "and for another, you're a smart girl. You know what the right thing is, and you'll do it. Not for yourself, but for Jack. And someday, you can tell your child you stood up to a murderer, stood up for the man you loved."

We entered the elevator, the doors closing behind us, and I gave him a mock glare. "You should have gone into politics. You have a way of making a great sales pitch."

"I'm too shy." _Not to mention, being a vampire and a lot limelight probably don't mix too well, _I added mentally. I wondered what Mick did as a human. Had he chosen this vampiric existence? Somehow, I doubted it. He wouldn't have been so squeamish about taking blood if he was all cool about his nature.

"He likes you," Mick said out of left field.

"Who? Josh?" The doors opened on the parking garage. I had no trouble spotting Mick's car. It really was a beauty.

"Josef," Mick corrected. I gave him my best 'are you friggin' kidding me' look. He seemed to think that was a riot, because he laughed. Not just a small tee-hee, but a real laugh.

"If that's him liking somebody, I'd hate to see him in dislike mode." I wasn't exactly joking. I wasn't afraid of him, because Mick would never allow someone dangerous to me within twenty feet of my person, or my baby, but this Josef wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy either. Kind of funny, if you liked that sort of disparaging wit thing, but not exactly on my list of people to hang with anytime soon.

"You didn't fall all over yourself over the wonder that it is him," Mick explained with healthy sarcasm over the last part. "Most women fawn over his looks and his money."

"What, is _Material Girl_ their theme song?" I asked. Mick just shrugged, smiling. He was in such a funk earlier, I was glad I was distracting him. "So, he likes it when a girl can't stand him?"

"I don't think you feel quite that strongly about him, do you?" Now it was my turn to offer nothing but a shrug. He opened my car door, and _that_ was impressive. Even Jack, sweetie that he was, didn't bother with stuff like that.

"This car rocks," I told him, changing the subject. "Too bad gas prices are a bitch right now."

Mick made a sound of absent agreement. "Um, about sleeping arrangements, I uh, well, the thing is, I don't have a bed."

_Does he sleep in a coffin? _I wondered. If so, that must be real morbid. "You don't sleep in a bed? What, is it against your religion?"

"Oh, uh, nothing like that." Okay, he's definitely flustered. He probably doesn't have to explain this all that often. He started the car, and eased out of the parking space. "It, uh, well, my bed broke."

"Really?" I couldn't resist some good-natured teasing. "I guess you do have company once in a while, huh?"

The poor guy actually choked. I had to bite back the laugh that bubbled up my throat. Was he a Victorian child or something? "N-no, nothing-nothing like that. It's just…it was just really old. Yeah, really old."

"Mick, I'm not your mother, you don't need to make excuses to me. Your sex life is your own business."

"But, you don't understand. It's not-"

I held up a hand. "Say no more, you're just embarrassing yourself." He let out of a sound of frustration. Oh, this was gonna be fun.


	10. Robert Louis Stevenson

It was nice to hang out with Mick without it being all life and death. He took me to the store, and I stocked up on some of the essentials, real underwear being one of the biggies. Afterwards, he took me out for ice cream, and I got a strawberry shake. Talk about yummy. I noticed Mick didn't partake, and I had to feel sorry for the guy. No ice cream? It just wasn't right.

"You're diabetic, aren't you?" I asked between happy sips, enjoying the night air through on my skin. I could get used to riding with the top down. This was heaven.

"Excuse me?" He shot me a startled glance.

"Oh, come on, Mick, it just makes sense. Your condition is why you were so bad off in the desert. You didn't have your insulin shot. That's what Beth brought, right? And now you're not eating ice cream. Why the cloak and dagger? Afraid it'd hurt your big bad image?" Okay, that was all bullshit, and I knew it, but the important thing was that he believed that's what I really thought. Neither us of were ready to tackle the vampire issue, and I wanted to make him more comfortable. Besides, I'd probably find out more if he believed I was clueless.

"Okay, okay, you caught me." He shot me a sheepish grin, rolling neatly with the lie. Why not? I'd just gift wrapped things for him, he didn't even have to think of a bogus cover story. "It's hereditary, and I was diagnosed not too long ago. I'm still adjusting to the needles and lack of dessert. Beth brought me what I needed."

"See? Was that so hard?" I took another mouthful of strawberry goodness, briefly closing my eyes in appreciation. Is this how vampires felt about blood? I bet being pregnant really makes me a tasty treat. I tensed, and looked carefully at Mick for any signs of hunger, but he wasn't looking at me like I was on the menu. I relaxed again, feeling like a bit of a jerk. If Mick wasn't going to snack on me in the middle of nowhere, he sure wouldn't now of all times.

"What's with the guilty look?" He shot me a curious look.

I just feel really guilty for sponging off you. I mean, Mick I do have some cash in the bank. Fayed paid me good money. I'm not the Little Match Girl or something." That wasn't a lie, because I was starting to feel a little bad. I mean, Mick had paid for both diner meals, what I bought at the store, (he insisted) and now he'd paid for the strawberry goodness.

"You need to save your money, Leni," Mick told me almost sternly. "You've got a baby coming."

"I can't even think that far ahead right now," I admitted. "I can't even think past tonight."

He aimed a cute little lopsided grin at me. "Fair enough. Let me take care of you, at least for the here and now. That's what friends are for. Just kick back and relax, okay?"

It was too tempting to refuse. I mean, I was entitled one night of just being carefree, right? And Mick didn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he enjoyed helping me. Not many people are that altruistic. "Well, I think I can handle that." I leaned back with a contented sigh, enjoying the rest of my milkshake. "So, tell me about Josef."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"Oh, trust me, I don't," I told him bluntly. Maybe too bluntly. "I mean, I know he's your friend and all, and I'm not trying to say that you shouldn't be pals with him if that's what you want." I decided to shut up before I went into serious babble mode.

"Good to know." There was a noticeable twinkle in Mick's eye. Yep, I was definitely distracting him from all that Beth related angst. I mentally patted myself on the back. "So, why the interest?"

"Interest is way too strong of a word there, Mick. I'm just curious. What is he? Some Donald Trump wanna-be? He seems a little young to be a billionaire. Old money?"

"Josef doesn't want to be like anyone but himself, trust me." There was a world of exasperation and affection in his voice. "He's, uh, older than he looks, I guess you could say, but yes, some of his fortune was inherited. But trust me; Josef is no trust fund brat. He's poured his heart and soul into Kostan Industries, and he's a financial genius. There's nothing lightweight about him."

Even if Josef was an ass, there had to be something to him for Mick to sound that proud, that protective. Mick St. John, I had the feeling, wouldn't be hanging out with somebody that was a total waste. "I guess I'll have to take your word on that. You guys seem kind of like opposites."

"In some ways, we are. And others…well, you'd be surprised." _You wanna bet? _I almost asked. After finding out vampires were real, it was hard to believe much would surprise me ever again. "He's one of the best friends I've ever had."

"Mmmm. That's nice." We launched into a series of mini conversations, keeping it light, impersonal. I took the time to get to know Mick better, form some better informed impressions. I pretty much confirmed what I already knew. Definitely a nice guy, with a healthy sense of humor, and a developed sense of intelligence. It was hard to believe my new found companion was a vampire. On the surface, there didn't seem anything predatory or scary about him.

When we got home, he went all Sir Lancelot and insisted on carrying my purchases in for me. "You'd make a good boyfriend," I told him. He got a weird look, and I laughed. "Relax; I'm not making a proposition here, just an observation. You're already trained and all."

"Gee, thanks." He made a playful face at me. Since his hands were full, I took the device from him, and unlocked the door myself. The place was no more welcoming this time around, but I did feel safe here, and that was the important thing. And at least the couch looked comfy. Mick set the bags by the couch.

"You've got one serious collection." I made a gesture towards Mick's cool bookshelves. I headed over, curious to see what Mick liked to pour over.

"Oh, thanks." He was right behind me, sounding a little nervous. Oh, nothing real obvious, but there was a trace of uneasiness. What, did he have torrid romance novels in the mix? I was dying to find out. I'm not really a heavy reader myself; you won't catch me engrossed in _A_ _Canterbury Tale. _I'm not like into Shakespeare, or Jane Austin and that kind of thing, much to the dismay of my best friend in high school.

If I did pick up something heavier than a comic book, I tended to favor romance novels, (guilty pleasure) usually in the flavor of Julie Garwood, or a nice mystery, Mary Higgins Clark being my main girl for that. Come to think of it, I have read some vampire stuff, like _Silver Kiss_ and _Companion of the Night. _It'd be fun to pick them up again, and read them knowing that vampires really do go bump in the night.

I scanned Mick's selection, seeing if I recognized any titles. I almost giggled when I saw Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. Mick apparently had an appreciation for irony. There was also Mary Shelly's _Frankenstein_, tucked under _Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde._ The much more benign _Treasure Island_ was also there. I might not have been a heavy reader, but apparently, Mick was.

He noticed me looking at _Treasure Island_. "That's one of my favorites." His voice took on a sad, almost haunted quality. "That's the first book my dad ever read to me."

"Yeah?" I prompted gently, not wanting to wreck the tentative mood.

"I was about six, and he told me a growing boy should feed his mind." Mick chuckled, but the look in his eyes was heartbreaking. I'd guessed before Mick's father was probably dead, but now I was sure of it. "Ever night until I was about twelve, after I was got settled in for the night, he'd read me a chapter from what we were reading at the time."

I pointed to _Jekyll and Hyde_. "What about that one?"

"When I was older, sure." He touched the well preserved spine almost tenderly, seeped in his memories.

"Are these the actual books?" I asked, thinking that maybe he's the one that could use the hug this time.

"No, he checked them out from the library. Dad was pretty frugal." Mick flashed a grin. "A real cheapskate, actually, but I loved him. He'd never buy something he could get for free."

I could relate. All my school clothes came from the goodwill, and mom always said five outfits were enough for anybody, even though she had a closet jammed to the bursting point. I got real good at being creative with switching up outfits, borrowing from my friends, or jazzing up the previous year's leftovers to make it stretch. Still, it seemed like Mick's dad had redeeming qualities, or Mick wouldn't have that almost reverent tone going on. My mom could jump in a gutter for all I cared.

To distract myself from the depressing topic my mind was leading me towards, I scanned the rest of his selection. Mick was also into John Steinbeck, since the guy had his own section. _The Pearl, The Grapes of Wrath, East of Eden, Cannery Row, _and _The Winter of Our Discontent_ were neatly packed into the corner.I was familiar with Steinbeck because of Freshman English, but had only read a couple of his novels.

"What, no Edgar Allen Poe?" I muttered, then spotted a collection of his poems. "Whoops, spoke too soon."

"And what wrong with Mr. Poe?" Mick demanded, his sadness safely tucked away. Now, he sounded almost playful. Man, what was he? A light switch? He could sure turn it off and on real quick.

"Nothing if you're into that sort of thing." I gestured towards his bookshelves of doom and gloom. "I guess you don't read for escapism. I wouldn't recommend lending your library out to a depressed person. You might as well just shove them off the building and be done with it. I guess I wasn't joking when I said you have one serious collection."

Mick made a noncommittal sound. "Sometimes the more tragic stories pack a more solid punch."

"Yeah, right to the gut," I countered. "Life's depressing enough, I'll stick to fluff in my reading selection." I continued to scan, and noticed Mick was hovering, like he was ready to run interference. Was something behind these books? A secret lever or safe? My curiosity was running sky high, but I realized that I wouldn't find out if Mick kept up the guard dog routine. I moved away from his not-so cheery little collection, and he relaxed. Again, it wasn't totally obvious, but since I was paying attention, I caught it pretty easy.

"You're probably exhausted." Actually, I was, but I had a feeling Mick wanted me to go to sleep for reasons other than to keep my good looks. The faster I conked out, the less the chance was that I'd stumble over something incriminating.

I wasn't going to make it easy for him. "Nope, not really." He shifted uncomfortably, and I didn't have to be clairvoyant to tell he was thinking: 'Now what?' "What, bored with me all ready?"

"It's not that." Actually, and I don't think I was off the mark, I think Mick got as much of a kick out of my company as I did his. Somehow, despite his talent for levity, he struck me as a lonely being. He was just scared I find out about his little drinking problem. "I just…there's not much to do around here. I work a lot, so don't have a lot of time to keep my DVD collection stocked up."

"Could I use your laptop? It's like been a dungeon at the safe house, and I've haven't been able to surf the web in forever."

"Sure." Mick actually looked a little relieved, and I felt guilty for messing with him. All other reasoning aside, wouldn't it just be kinder to put the poor guy out of his misery and tell him I knew the big bad secret? I almost blurted it out, but something stopped me. Our friendship was too new, too shaky. I mean, look at how he was shutting this Beth out, and he was nuts about her. I'd be out with yesterday's garbage if he found out I knew the deal.

Twenty minutes later, after getting ready for bed, I was settled on the couch, hitting Google. Mick was in his office, but that safe, settled feeling his proximity brings was still wrapped around me like a fuzzy blanket. I looked up ol' Robert Louis Stevenson, checking out Treasure Island. Okay, so it was out in 1883, which meant Mick couldn't be much younger than that, if dear ol' dad read to him when he was six. Mick probably thought it was a safe reference to make, but his admission had just landed me my first major clue about his age.

I just hoped I get a chance to check out what all those books were hiding.


	11. The Inquisitive One

Trust me when I say sleeping on Mick's sofa through the night was no real hardship. Actually, it was more comfortable than the safe house bed. I slept a solid 12 hours, feeling like a whole new Leni when I woke up. Then I remembered I had to face the music today, and groaned. Life sucked.

Suddenly, Mick was there, offering me a cup of tea. "Ahhh!" I cried, jumping a little into the cushion of the couch. "Geez, just where'd you come from?"

He winked, wrapping my fingers around the glass gently. "Well, I guess I move quiet."

"Ya think?" I muttered, took too big of a sip, burned my tongue. What a way to start off the day. Was that a bad sign? "I don't suppose you can turn invisible, can you?" Actually, it might be a valid question. Whatever I'd heard about vampires, for all I knew, it was all bunk. Well, besides the blood sucking thing, duh. So far, I knew they didn't eat, and they could stand sunlight, but only up to a point. It wasn't exactly a mental encyclopedia I was carrying around on the subject.

"Unless there's something I'm not telling me, no," Mick said over a chuckle. He ruffled my hair, and laughed harder at my attempt at a growl. "What? It's not like it could get much messier."

"Well, somebody's feeling his oats this morning," I muttered, but couldn't get the stupid grin off my face. It was nice to see him really lighten up. I took another taste of the tea, and barely avoided making a face at the gross taste. I was determined to drink the stuff, at least some, because Mick had gone through the trouble of making it for me. I took another careful swallow.

He takes a seat in the chair opposite of me, appraising me now. It was kind of like the look Mr. Charm School gave me the night before, but the look isn't so…so…oh, I don't know. Calculating? Cold? Well, whatever it was, Mick's version was a lot friendlier. I braved yet another try of the brew. "What? I got a zit or something?"

"Relax. I was just wondering if you slept well."

"Hey, you could always go crazy and ask," I suggested teasingly.

"Yes, but then you could always just be polite and lie. My eyes don't." Spoken like a true P.I., I guessed. And I was lying to Mick, at least by omission. But then again, so was he. Just because I knew the truth didn't make his 'I'm a human' act any less of a sham. An understandable, necessary sham, I admit. I mean, it probably wouldn't be too smart to start conversations out like: 'Hey, I'm Mick St. John. I'm a vampire P.I. My, what a tasty neck you have, ma'am.'

"I slept better than I have since Jack died," I told him honestly. My grip tightened on the mug, remembering the worst night of my life. The night of the safe house murders would come in a close second, though. Would there be more nights like them? I had to bite my lip, and blink hard against impending tears.

"Hey," Mick was saying gently, crossing the room to touch my shoulder. "If you need to cry, let it out."

I couldn't say anything for a minute without blubbering, but I shook my head stubbornly. If I kept it up, I'd need to invest in a rain coat. I'd cried enough yesterday. Today was a new day, and I was determined to keep my eyes dry. I clutched his hand hard, his ring biting into my flesh. Mick tried to pull away, but I clung. The physical discomfort distracted me, gave me a small window of time to pull myself together.

Aiming him a small smile to let him know I was okay, I patted his hand, and let him loose. "So, I guess we see Josh today, huh?"

"He needs to prepare your testimony," Mick reminded me, trying to be as nice as he could about it. He really was such a sweetie. Yeah, poor Beth. Definitely got the dilemma. As cool as two hot, sweet guys having a thing for you might sound, I could see how it might royally suck. And I seriously doubted either Mick or Josh were up for threesomes. I paused, then shrugged. Of course, you never could tell. Still, I doubted it.

"I'm beginning to worry whenever you get that look on your face," Mick drawled, his head cocked thoughtfully to one side, hands folded casually across his chest.

"What look?"

"Like your mind's going somewhere it shouldn't." I guess Mick having a threesome with DA Lindsay and Beth Turner would probably qualify. Again, it was probably a case of TMI.

"Oh, that look. When do we have to meet up with Josh?" It's not like Mick would mind if I changed the subject.

"We probably should leave in an hour. Uh, is that enough time for you to get ready?" He looked actually a little worried. Geez, did I look like Jennifer Lopez?

"I'll manage," I retorted sarcastically. "Then I guess after that, it's goodbye. Off to another safe house, huh?" I couldn't keep the depression out of my voice.

"The trial's tomorrow." I raised an eyebrow. How did he know? Before I could ask, he was telling me. "When I talked to Josh, he filled me in. Plus, it was all over BuzzWire."

A subtle change came over Mick. It's hard to describe, but it's like he kind of deflated, his eyes going all…not really sad…that's not the right word. Um, kind of blank, you know? Uh-oh, he was thinking of Beth, and all the drama that ensued yesterday. How do you respond to that? How do you comfort your new friend because they sank their fangs into their other friend?

With an effort, he pulled his attention back to me and my never-ending dilemma. "You'll get through this, Leni."

"Do I have a choice? And even if the trial's tomorrow…" I swallowed hard, setting down my now cold tea. Now it was even grosser. "I might not be safe, you know? That kind of money, Fayed could totally reach out from behind bars. Then what? The witness protection program?"

"That's always an option." Mick sighed. "One I can see you don't like."

"No, I don't. I know the program's supposed to be totally safe and all, but who's saying Fayed couldn't get around it? I mean, he had spies before, right?" My new buddy tilted his head in reluctant acknowledgement. "And even then, my life's like one big lie. Always looking over my shoulder? Not for me."

"I know how you feel," he murmured. Yeah, being a vampire and all, I bet he did. He glanced at me, looking a little anxious. He probably hadn't meant to say that aloud, it was kind of a slip.

Ever the angel of mercy, (I swear, I was working just as hard to keep his secret as he was) I quickly moved on. "So, unless you missed it, no witness protection for me. That begs the question: What am I going to do, Mick?"

"Well, after your appointment with Josh, you're going to the doctor," Mick announced. He gave me a hard look. "We need to know the baby's okay, Leni."

Thinking it was cute that he said 'we', I nodded, not about to put up a fight. "Sounds like a plan. You think Josh and whoever the new dream team is will let me go?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it." Mick took the discarded cup of tea, carrying it into the kitchen.

"You're going to tell them I'm pregnant?" I squeaked, then stopped cold, slapping a hand over my mouth. Oh, Lord, did I just squeak? What was I? Six?!

Luckily, Mick was cool about it, not calling me on my major dorkiness. "Since the trial's over tomorrow, I don't see the need. Your safety won't be their concern after that; I'll take care of it."

"What are you talking about?" What, was he suggesting I move in? That'd be way too much to expect, and there was no way I could take him up on that. Still, the selfish streak in me, the only thing I get from Ma thanks, (although the pervert sperm donor probably didn't help my genes any) wanted to stay forever, made my heart leap in hope. "You're going to be my new bodyguard?"

"Not exactly." He got a funny look on his face, and I had the feeling he thought I wouldn't like whatever plan he'd cooked up.

"Is it another safe house?"

"Better," he promised, looking me straight in the eye. "Maximum luxury, maximum security."

"What's the catch?" I asked cynically.

"Uh…" Okay, there was a definitely a fly in the ointment somewhere, it was written all over Mick's face. "Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Fine." Since I owed the guy big time, I decided to let it drop for the time being. Besides, I had to focus my strength and energy on the meeting with Josh, not with arguing with Mick. I headed up to the bathroom, forcing myself to not drag my feet. I really wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but the dice had already been rolled, I had to play my turn.

On the bathroom counter, my clothes from yesterday were neatly folded, and clean. My throat constricted with gratitude, and I grabbed the clothes, burying my face in the soft material until I got ahold of my emotions. I made a vow that someday, somehow, I'd make it up to Mick, I'd repay all the kindness he'd been heaping on me. Oh, I know, some people might think washing an outfit as small, but not me. It was the sentiment behind the gesture that bowled me over.

Ten minutes later, just as I was combing out my hair, (yeah, it was totally messy) I heard a knock on the door. I groaned under my breath. I hoped it wasn't Josef; his not-so sparkling personality was the last thing I needed to deal with. I anchored half on my hair back with a clip, letting the rest fall around my shoulders, fiddling with the ends, a nervous habit. I slipped on a pair of sneakers I bought last night at the store, and headed out, bracing myself for any obnoxious commentary.

It was a welcome surprise that I didn't see Josef standing in the living room downstairs. In fact, Mick was alone. "Who was at the door? Or am I just going nuts?"

Mick held up a paper bag, with a Café logo on it. "Nope, that was just breakfast."

"Aw, that's sweet. How much do I owe you?" I know he wanted me to save my money, but at this point, he was going to have to take on a second job just to support his friend habit.

He scowled at me, a stubborn set to his face all of a sudden. Oh, boy. "We talked about this last night."

"Right. But that was last night. We agreed for you to take care of me, for the night. I don't know what you'd call that, but I think that's sunlight coming in through the windows, ergo it's not night anymore."

"No kidding." He glanced at the bright light with what might be labeled caution. I came downstairs, and I once I hit bottom, I let go of the banister to put my hands on my hips. "Look, Leni, it's two biscuits and a side order of eggs. It's not a diamond bracelet."

I had to smile at that. "Yeah, but-"

"Look, it's getting cold." He handed me the bag. "I'm going upstairs to catch a quick shower, you eat."

"How much did breakfast cost?" I still wasn't through trying to get my way. I hated feeling like a sponge. But Mick just ignored me, lightly jogging up the stairs. "Is that your way of saying the discussion's closed?" I hollered up the stairs. If I couldn't win, I'd at least get in the last word. A door shutting was my only answer. "Guess so," I said in a more normal tone. Could he hear me? I've heard vampires are supposed to have keener hearing, but I wasn't sure if that was true. If so, I'd have to be real careful what I muttered under my breath, huh?

Since I was starving, I wolfed down the chow like a real pig. I washed it down with the orange juice it came with, though the stuff was weak to the point where it was like: 'hello, flavor?' Still, I'd rather choke on my own tongue than complain to Mick. If he asked, it was going to be thumbs up all the way.

After tossing the stuff in the trash, it didn't take me long to get bored. I wondered over to the book shelf. I removed the Steinberg section, and felt along the panel. After a little maneuvering, it slipped free, revealing a secret compartment. "Cool," I whispered. I examined the wicked looking gun within. I opened the chamber to see if it was loaded, not expecting to find the silver bullets within, all the while listening for the shower.

"What's he doing? Hunting werewolves?" I muttered. "Or does silver really work on vampires?"

"My, aren't you the inquisitive one," a male voice commented from behind me. Feeling like I was in the grips of a nightmare, as if in slow motion, I turned, to find a poker faced Josef watching me. Oh, not good…


	12. Bodyguard 2

"Well?" Josef's voice was cool, calm, expectant.

Raising my chin up a notch, I gave him a steady look. Whatever I did, I couldn't freak out. "Well what?"

One of his eyebrows rose a disdainful couple of inches. "Let me guess: You volunteered to do the spring cleaning? Oh, wait, it's September."

"And observant too," I shot back. The shower was still running, so I still had time to do damage control. "What's it to you?"

He took a step towards me, and I had to force myself not to take a step back. I couldn't stop my back from stiffening though, my hand tightening around the gun I was still holding. I clicked the chamber back into place. "Oh, I don't know," he was saying, a dangerous kind of sound blending into the mix. "You're snooping around my best friend's apartment, after he's opened up his home to you. What does that make you exactly?"

_Asshole, _I thought, hating his guts. Still, he kind of had a point. It probably wasn't cool to be snooping around Mick's space. Not that I'd admit it to this jerk. "God, Josef, drama queen much? I was checking out his bookshelf, 'cause it's cool. How was I supposed to know I'd find Van Helsing's stash?"

A muscle jerked in Josef's jaw. "The last time I checked, going through someone's personal belongings without the benefit of their permission qualified as snooping. Rebuttal?"

Honestly? I was just totally making this all up as I went. Talk about being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. But I had no choice but to jump in, start swimming, and hope I didn't sink. For some weird reason, I wasn't scared. Not really. No matter what happened, Mick wouldn't hurt me, or let me be hurt. The worst case scenario, I could throw myself on Mick's mercy, tell him the whole truth. It was a last resort, but comforting anyway. The shower upstairs shut off.

"Look, not that it's any of your business, but I wasn't snooping. I was looking at Mick's Steinberg collection, going through it. I guess I must have been really bored, but hey. Mick never said I couldn't touch his books. I noticed something was weird with the panel, and when I was checking it out, it came loose. I thought I broke it, then saw the gun. So I pulled it out and looked at it. Big deal." He'd said nothing while I improvised, and I forced my rate to stay slow, relaxed, making sure I sounded more pissed than anything. I put my free hand on my hip, rolled my eyes. "Happy now?"

I couldn't tell if he believed me or not. He just kept…looking at me. It was really creepy. Geez, did this guy need to blink or what? I used the excuse of putting the gun away to look away without losing face. Finally, he broke the quiet, gesturing to the discarded books. "So, these were what you were interested in, hmmm? Funny, it looked to me like they were more in your way than anything else."

"You know what I think?" I didn't give him time to answer. "That you need to get a life, because if this is all you have to do, you're sad."

His eyes flashed, but he otherwise ignored my observation. "You were looking for something, Leni, and I want to know why."

"Yeah? Well, you can shove-"

"What's going on here?" Mick's voice filled the room, and I jumped a little. He was halfway down the stairs, dressed in blue jeans, and a dark green button down shirt. His hair was still wet and tousled from the towel, and his shirt was clinging, indicating he hadn't dried off that good. He was watching us both, his eyes on the gun I'd just put away. The look on his face was closed off, and my stomach lurched. I was probably more bothered by Mick's reaction than Josef's. I could handle him, but the idea that I'd disappointed Mick, violated his trust, was almost as scary as missiles and hit men.

Before Mr. Charm school could put his little spin on events, I repeated the version I'd given to Josef, not able to look at Mick, too afraid that he'd be pissed. "Before I could put it back, he was all in my face, launching the Spanish Inquisition, 2.0."

Mick came down the rest of the stairs, put the panel back. It was one of those mornings you just wished you could hit 'reset.' Too bad life didn't work like that. Before Mick could comment one way or the other, or I could think of something else to say, Josef was opening his big mouth. "Maybe she was looking for the safe."

"Meaning?" I hissed, wanting to punch him right in the mouth. Or maybe somewhere a lot lower.

"I think you understood me fine," he countered. I glared at him, so mad I could scream, almost forgetting Mick was in the room.

"Enough," Mick ordered firmly, moving to stand between us. He turned in my direction, running a hand over his face. "Josef and I are going into the office for a minute. Stay in here. Feel free to skim." He gestured to the forgotten Steinbeck collection, my alibi. I couldn't tell if he was mad at me or not, but at least he was getting Josef out of my face.

Before he left, Josef gave me a look. I can't say it was threatening, exactly. If I had to peg it, I guess the message he was trying to send was 'I'm keeping my eye on you. This isn't over.' I just waved, smiling sweetly. What I really wanted to do was flip him off, but Mick probably wouldn't have appreciated the gesture, and I wanted to keep him on my side as much as possible.

After they retreated to the privacy of the office, I put the books back, not about to do any more exploring. The more I thought about it, the more I was thinking Josef was a vampire too. He was too sneaky, too paranoid not to be. And how about him not even commenting on the silver bullets, like that kind of thing was normal? Uh-huh, say no more.

A few minutes later, Mick came back in, minus Josef. Not a big loss, as far I was concerned. He must have gone out some other way. "You ready?" he asked me. He was acting okay, so I could only guess he wasn't majorly pissed. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses, and put them on. I reminded myself I needed to go out and buy a pair myself.

"Sure." We headed out, and I kept waiting for him to bring up this morning's drama. "Um, look, about what happened-"

"You must have questions," Mick interrupted.

"Well, the silver bullets were kind of weird," I said honestly. "What's up with those?"

"I'm a bit of an eccentric," Mick drawled as we got into the elevator.

"Oh, you hunt werewolves?" I was aiming for light, and think I hit the right note. "Talk about your extreme sports."

"Very funny." About ten seconds later, the doors opened, and we stepped out of the elevator, into the garage. "If you must know, they were a bit of an inheritance."

"Really?" I guess it was his turn to be making it up as he went along. Still, he had this calm, rational way of explaining it, and he sounded so sincere. You know, I would have totally bought it, if I hadn't been otherwise aware. Mick used it to hunt his own kind, if necessary, I was sure of it.

"Well, the gun and the bullets. My grandfather was staunchly Catholic, maybe even fanatical, especially in the twilight years of his life." Mick opened the passenger side door for me. I slipped inside, listening to the story I was being fed. "He became increasingly superstitious, believing in all kinds of crazy things…including vampires and werewolves." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "I know, I know. My mother didn't have the heart to have him put away, but a lot of people thought he should have been. He had the bullets made, and kept his gun loaded with them, just to be safe, I guess." Mick settled in the driver's seat.

"Weird. Some grandsons get a car…you got the werewolf hunting gear." I flipped my hair behind my shoulders, pretending to mull over the so-called truth I'd just heard. "Well, that explains that. Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to have my hands all over your stuff. And whatever your buddy thinks, I was not looking to lift anything."

"Don't worry, I set him straight," Mick promised me apologetically. Oh, too bad I'd missed that. "I know Josef comes off-"

"Like a creep?" I supplied helpfully.

"Abrupt," Mick substituted. "He's an acquired taste, trust me, but-"

"Once I get to know him, I'll love him?" I made a gagging noise.

Mick laughed, starting the car, and pulled out of the garage. "I wouldn't go that far." The top on the Benz was up today, protecting us, especially him, from the hot sun. It had to be about 90 degrees out, and it was barely 11:00. I just hoped autumn cooled things down soon. "More like, you'll get used to him."

"Maybe," I allowed, but I doubted it. "Hopefully, it won't be an issue. What?" I couldn't help but get nervous over the weird look on Mick's face all of a sudden.

"I really hope you and Josef can learn to get along," he told me. His expression was hard to read with his shades on, but from I could see, he looked like he was in mild pain.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"It'll make everyone's life easier." Okay, that sounded ominous.

"Why?" I repeated, and I could feel my eyes narrowing. Mick didn't answer for a long minute, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Somehow, I doubted it was because he had a full bladder. "All right, that's it. What's going on?"

Mick hesitated, and I could all but hear him think 'aw, what the hell?' "Because you two will be interacting on a regular basis." It took a few seconds for that little bombshell to sink in. I kept my mouth shut for a minute, for two reasons. One, we'd just hit heavy traffic, and he needed all the concentration he could get maneuvering his car through it. Second of all, if I spoke too soon, I might start yelling.

"Oh, really?" I forced myself to say calmly. "Any particular reason, or are you just starting your own reality show?"

"Okay, I can tell you hate the idea-"

"Gee, ya think?" I couldn't help but shoot back. "He's a jerk, and that's being nice about it."

"Will you let me finish?" he asked with strained patience. I crossed my arms and shrugged, looking out the window, watching the other cars. "As I was saying, I know you hate the idea. He's not too crazy about it either, but I hope you two will act like grown adults and not sulking five-year olds."

I was only half listening. I was thinking about what Mick had said earlier, about maximum security and maximum luxury. Josef seemed like he was rich, and he was more paranoid than an insecure wife married to an Italian. Did Mick actually think I was going to move in with Josef? What was he smoking?!

"Josef's running the safe house?" I demanded. I knew my voice went kind of shrill, but I couldn't help it. "Are you crazy?"

"It's been suggested," Mick muttered. "Look, before you have a meltdown, will you please listen to me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Mick sighed, long and loud, taking a hand from the wheel to massage his temple real quick. "Leni, think of the big picture. After this trial's over, you'll be on your own. The D.A.'s office is understaffed and under-funded. They'll try to do right by you, but being strapped for cash and all…" he trailed off, letting me get the picture on my own. "I can protect you, and I will, but I can't do it 24/7. I've got to work and sleep."

I sighed. I know Mick wasn't trying to put me on a guilt-trip, but damned if it wasn't working. Besides, where else did I have to go? I was among the ranks of the unemployed. "Just the little things, right? All right, so you think Josef's going to play bodyguard # 2? Please. He'd rumple the designer threads. Oh, horrors!"

Okay, Mick definitely had to suppress a smirk at that one. "Josef has security that he pays a less than small fortune to see to stuff like that." We pulled up in the parking lot of the DA's office, and I braced myself. I'd come a long ways, and the worst part wasn't even over yet. Suddenly, I felt like I was a hundred. "I think we should table this discussion for now, don't you think?"

"Fine by me. One headache at a time." I didn't wait for him open the door for me, it's not like my hands were broken. I was anxious to get out, get in, and get this over with.

Ten minutes later, we were seated in DA Lindsay's office, both Mick and me in deep cushioned leather seats. Directly across from us, behind his desk, DA Lindsay was sitting. Instinctively, I took Mick's hand, trying to steal a little bit of his strength, that kind of stoic thing he's got going on.

"You had us scared, Leni," DA Lindsay's telling me, his smile friendly.

I bite back a sarcastic retort that it wasn't exactly a picnic for me either, but force myself to remember he's on my side. "Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"Thanks for bringing her in." He acknowledges Mick, his expression a couple shades cooler than a few seconds earlier. I can tell he's trying to play nicely, but there's no love loss in the room. Could the reason be blonde and blue-eyed? Duh.

"No problem," Mick says calmly. I snort, which has both of them looking at me.

"Sure, it was a breeze," I quip, which earns a chuckle out of Mick. "Wanna do it again?" Now Mick just groans, and the DA's kind of frowning. Not in a pissed way, but more thoughtfully, you know?

"Yes, I understand you two had a rough time. There are some things I'd like to clear up, if you two don't mind." Now I felt like groaning. He had 'the tone.' It's the tone the principal used to try on me when he was trying to get me to rat out someone, or one I heard Fayed use on Jack when he was being all sneaky. 'The tone' is never good.

Mick didn't look worried. Bored, maybe, but cool as a cucumber. "By all means." He gives my hand a squeeze; almost like he could tell that I didn't like the direction this was headed.

"Do you mind if I have this on tape?" The DA was quick to whip a recorder out. I had the feeling he was just asking to be polite. "We can have formal statements typed up from this."

"Fine," Mick assented, still not sounding worried.

"How did you know that the 'cop' wasn't legit?"

"You know, I asked him the very some thing," I announced before Mick had a chance to answer. "See, the jacket was all wrong. He wasn't supposed to be wearing one. Plus, the I.D. was total bunk."

"I see." DA Lindsay seemed to be processing that, his eyes sharp. Mick didn't add anything, just waited the guy out. "So your answer was to steal a patrol car?"

"I figured depriving him of his set of wheels would slow him down." Mick ignored the less than subtle hint of disapproval coming our way.

"Actually it's really a good thing we jacked that car, since Mick's ride would have been burned to a crisp, and that'd be heartbreaking, but it's a real classic." I don't know what possessed me to chime in with that, but sometimes my mouth starts running without my permission.

My random observation was ignored by both men. "How did you two survive the inferno?"

"We didn't stick around for the barbeque." Mick didn't add 'duh', but I could tell he wanted to. His expression matched. I giggled, I couldn't help it. For a second, the DA looked flustered but pulled it together fast.

"You two jumped out of a moving car without being detected?" Now he just sounds incredulous. Whether it's the fact we'd jump out of a moving car or we wouldn't be noticed, I'm not sure.

"More like briefly parked and quickly scooted," I corrected. Since Mick was yet to give me the cut-off signal, I figured he didn't mind me being a not-so silent partner.

"From the sky, all they were probably focusing on was the car itself. Visual wouldn't be great," Mick added.

"All right. Then what happened?"

"We went on a hike. We trekked through the desert a ways, and then we ended up in coach roach hell. At that point, Leni called Beth to give her an update." As Mick gave the severely edited version, I couldn't help but wonder what Beth had told her boyfriend. She'd never mean to out Mick, I didn't know her all that well, but I knew that. Still, what if she'd accidentally slipped on something small that could come back and bite us in the ass later?

The DA's eyes never left Mick, and I couldn't tell if sensed anything was being left out or not. Finally, he said: "Why did you call Beth and have her rush over? I mean, didn't you realize you could be potentially putting her at risk?"

"She's the only one we trusted," I hastily cut in defensively. "What were we supposed to do if we couldn't trust the cops?"

"Calling her wasn't the stupid part," DA Lindsay countered. "What was stupid was letting her drive out there. She should have called me, and let me handle the situation."

"You're right," Mick agreed calmly. "We were both stressed out and not thinking clearly. Hindsight really is 20/20, I guess."

"Didn't she call you?" I asked. It was my turn to give Mick's hand an encouraging squeeze. I could feel the tension in him. It had creeped up right after DA Lindsay mentioned the 'Beth' factor.

DA Lindsay looked uncomfortable. "Yes, and she mentioned she'd talked to you, but she didn't give me the details."

"Well, that's not really on us, then is it?" I didn't mean to sound bitchy, but seriously, was it our fault Beth had a mind of her own? You think he'd be used to it by now. "I'm just glad it worked out okay," I asserted, trying to remind everyone that there was a happy ending. Well, sort of. I mean, other than there being serious weirdness between Beth and Mick, and a complicated love triangle, a looming trial ahead, everything was just peachy keen. _Oh, great, _I thought. _I just depressed myself. _


	13. Fishing Expedition

Putting heavy thoughts aside, I forced myself to focus on the next question. Geez, how many more were there? "About what time did the hit man…formerly known as Simon Wilkins, stop in to pay you guys a visit?"

"It was after dark," I answered. "Not too long after, though. After nine, but not too much later."

"Had Beth been there long?" DA Lindsay asked. I couldn't help but wonder what he was fishing for.

Mick decided to take over. "Again, we were all under some stress, the details are hazy."

The DA didn't look thrilled, but let it drop. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened last night?"

"Beth and I were in the bathroom-" Mick began, but it wasn't too long before he got interrupted.

"I wasn't aware that using the bathroom was a group activity." Mick rolled his eyes.

"The reason we were in there is because I'd suffered some mild heatstroke, and Beth was checking on me." Mick gave him a withering look. "Leni was alone in the room."

"That's when I heard the car. I hid in the closet." I shuddered, remembering the musty smell, being so scared and not knowing what was going on. Mick released my hand, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I leaned in, grateful for the support.

"Beth was leaving to check on Leni, and from what I understand, he sneaked up on her. He had a gun, and was trying to subdue her." A cold note crept into Mick's voice, obviously pissed someone had been trying to hurt her.

"Didn't Beth tell you?" I asked. "She'd know more, obviously."

"I'm interested in your version right now. Leni, did you see any of this?"

"No, I was still in the closet. I really didn't know what was going on, I just knew it was bad, you know? Then I heard Mick talking, and I knew it was okay to come out."

"The bathroom door had a fist size hole in it," The DA informed us. He was focusing solely on Mick now. Specifically, he was looking at Mick's hand, which didn't have a scratch on it. "Quick healer?"

"Flimsy wood," Mick corrected. "I made a clean break." He paused, reflecting. "I could hear Beth's muffled screams, but knew if I opened the door, there was a chance he'd just react. So I improvised."

"Very impressively too." Okay, there was definitely some thinly veiled sarcasm going on. Mick just ignored it. "Was he already dead when you came out, Leni?"

"Yeah." I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, kind of went nuts, and kind of attacked the body." From the look on Lindsay's face, I was wondering if maybe I should have kept that to myself. Thankfully, Mick jumped in and changed the subject.

"At which point, Beth called you, and you know the rest." It would have been obvious to somebody deaf and blind that Mick was getting impatient with the topic. "Anything else?"

"Why didn't you stick around to answer the police's questions?" An accusatory note was in the DA's voice. "Why did you two flee?"

"We didn't _flee_," Mick corrected. "We left the scene to let the professionals do their jobs and not get in the way. Leni had been through enough without being grilled right off. Besides, you're getting your answers now, aren't you?" He gestured at the recorder, and DA Lindsay pressed 'stop.' "When you have the formal statements drawn up, we'll sign them."

"If it's not too much trouble." It was obvious that the façade of politeness was starting to wear thin on both sides, but even more so on the DA's. At least they weren't taking off their jackets and taking it outside.

It was about that time that Mick's cell phone went off. He took a look at the ID, stood up. "I have to take this. Excuse me. It might be a while."

"By all means." Neither one seemed too heartbroken to be deprived of the other's company.

Mick turned to me, putting his hand on my shoulder, the weight comforting. "I won't be far, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can." I nodded, then gestured with my thumb to the door with a wink. He smiled and headed out, probably relieved to be getting a break. Why couldn't my cell phone go off? Oh, wait, I'd have to have one. Well, technically I did, but it was under Fayed's name. Don't think I'd be using that one anytime soon.

There was a long silence. DA Lindsay seemed to be mulling over something in his mind, I assumed it was about the trial. "I'm glad we have a minute, Leni. There's something very important we need to discuss in private."

"Yeah?" I mean, he was saying it all friendly-like, but I had a bad feeling. Did he want to hammer at the story Mick and I just told him? There wasn't one lie, just a lot of omissions. "The trial?"

"Not exactly. It's about St. John." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "What's your impression of him?"

Uh-oh. I so didn't like where this was headed. "Oh, you know, great guy, salt of the earth and all that. Why?"

"Have you noticed anything…unusual about him?" The question brought me up short, and suddenly, I could sense some kind of danger. I searched his face, trying to figure out what he was fishing for, because he was definitely fishing. The expression on DA Lindsay's face was tentative, maybe even a little unsure.

"Nope," I lied. "I mean, I don't know him all that well, but I feel close to him."

"He seems to have that effect," he muttered, his hands briefly closing into fists, but he was quick to catch himself. He looked a little green, if you catch my drift.

"Look, I'm not into him like that, if that's what you're thinking." Somehow, I doubted Beth could say the same thing with 100 honesty, but it was just a hunch. "But there's a bond, sure. I guess being chased by assassins, and roasting in the desert kind of does that to you. But if he's weird, I haven't picked up on it."

"Leni, I believe there's more to Mick St. John than meets the eye."

"You could say that about a lot of people," I pointed out. "And if he's got something going on, unless it's illegal, it's really not anybody's business." _So stick that in your pipe and smoke it_, I thought.

Sensing I wasn't going to play ball, he dropped it. "No, of course not. Not suggesting it was. It's just that he's a friend of my girlfriend's, I was just curious."

_Sure, you were, and I'm a natural blonde. _But since I kind of felt sorry for the guy, (I mean, having to compete with Mick St. John for a girl must be kind of rough) I decided to go easy on him. "I get that. Sorry I can't be more helpful. I just met the guy yesterday."

"By the way, do you know how Beth hurt her arm?"

I pretended to look surprised, then think about it. "Oh, yeah, I guess her arm was bleeding a little, that's right. Huh. Um, didn't you ask her about it?" What, didn't they talk? Or maybe there wasn't enough time in the day for boring conversation. Maybe DA Lindsay was more of a love machine than he seemed to be, and it was a case of 'less conversation, more action.' He was pretty cute, and from what I could tell, in good shape. It wouldn't be a hardship to share a mattress with him, that was for sure.

"Oh, uh, I never got around to it. Things have been kind of crazy around here."

"Well, I think she said something about a fence or something. Can't really remember, sorry. It was kind of in passing." I just hoped Beth had stuck with the story I'd fed her earlier.

"Oh, I wonder how she did that." He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Gotta love her, but if you looked up unpredictable in the dictionary, that's Beth in a nutshell. It's like an _I Love Lucy_ episode some days."

"I bet that quality is one of the things you love about her." Some of the things that drove me crazy about Jack were all the things that made me love him more. It all comes down to personal quirks, I guess.

"It's a mixed bag, no question. She's definitely a lot of work, but I can't imagine living my life without her. It'd be too boring, that's for sure." We shared a smile, and I could tell he loved Beth with a sincerity that you don't find too often anymore. 9 times out of 10, people change partners like they change their wardrobe, with discretion but not too much emotion. 'Love' to most people is a great concept, as long as it's convenient, but at the first sign of real sacrifice, they split faster than a nun at a frat party. What Josh feels for Beth is above all that superficial bullshit, and even if he was kind of up uptight, it made me like and respect him. Not enough to rat out Mick, though.

The next two hours, we prepped for the trial. Saying DA Lindsay was thorough is like saying Christina Aguilera can kind of sing. We combed over every angle with a fine-tooth comb, preparing for every dirty trick the defense would come up with. Still, I kept my mouth shut about my relationship with Jack. No one knew besides Mick and Beth, and no one else was going to know. I didn't want Fayed to even think about me more than he already was. I wasn't going to give his sleaze defense any reason to discredit me.

Mick was there the whole time except for that one phone-call, and didn't rat me out about Jack. I could tell he thought it'd be better to let the cat out of the bag, but respected my judgment.

Finally, it was over, and we could leave. I used the restroom, and Mick was waiting for me outside the entrance. "Are you sure that there's no way Fayed knew about you and Jack?"

"No way. Trust me, Fayed would have let me know he knew. He's such a creep, I could totally see him sending me 'condolences' after the funeral." I felt one of my hands tighten into a fist. "Oh, I hope he enjoys prison life, I really do. I hope he finds love with a huge muscle man named Bubba."

Mick let's loose a bark of laughter, almost choking on it. "Bubba?"

"Sure. You know, with a big 'Mama' tattoo on his arm, a couple of missing teeth, and a big attitude and bigger equipment." I wriggle my eyebrows, and another sound comes out of Mick, but not so much laughter this time. I'm surprised he's not blushing, he looks so uncomfortable. "Yep, that should make Fayed walk funny in the laundry room."

"Are you done yet?" he asks incredulously as we head through the exit.

"What? I thought dreams were what made life beautiful." I smirk as Mick presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. I wouldn't be surprised if he was mentally counting to ten. "Come on, Mick, inmates have needs too."

"What's disturbing is that you've given this prolonged thought," he announces.

"Fantasizing about a sociopath's misery gives me a boost, what can I say? It's kind of pulled me through. You know, Josh was asking a lot of questions about you."

"What kind of questions?" He's not worried, but I definitely have his attention.

"Well, he was all like: 'What do you think about him? Is there anything weird about him? There's more than meets the eye' that kind of stuff. I mean, he was trying to play it all cagey, but he was pumping me for information, no doubt about it. I just thought you'd want the heads-up."

"What did you tell him?" His expression was all impassive, but it was just a mask. What was underneath it, I couldn't tell you.

"What's to tell?" I countered, shrugging. "Just that you're a nice guy that bailed me out. There's nothing else to mention, not that I know of."

"You didn't bring up…uh…what was in the bookcase, did you?" We'd reached the car, and he was opening the passenger door for me, trying to play off the question all casual. He almost pulled it off, but not quite. Then again, I knew what to look for.

"Why?" I just gave him a look. "Like who cares that a family nut gave you some expensive ammo?"

Mick studies me for a long minute, and I repress a shiver. Does he know that I know something's up? He circles around the car, and gets in himself. "Good question," I think I heard him mutter.

"Look, I wouldn't have even brought it up, just thought you'd want to know he was up in your business." Mick started the car; let the engine hum for a few seconds before pulling the car into reverse to creep out of our parking space. "When's the doctor's appointment?"

"At 7:30 tonight."

I wrinkled my nose in confusion. "Kind of weird hours, huh?" Oh, God, the doctor wasn't a vampire, right? I don't think I'd be cool with that. I was kind of fond of my blood being right where it was.

Glancing over sharply at me, Mick gave me a concerned look. "You look nervous." Or did I just sound nervous? Could he hear my suddenly galloping heart?

"Oh, doctors make me nervous." That was a safe answer, right? I don't know of a lot of people who get giddy over seeing a doctor, unless it's on a personal basis.

"Look, Doctor Myer is very, very good at what she does. I've known her for years." _I bet you have, _I thought, feeling a little hysterical. The question was, how many? "Trust me, Leni. I wouldn't steer you wrong."

That helped me calm down a little. Mick wouldn't deliver me into the hands of a wackjob. "I know you wouldn't. Although the fact that you want to stuff me with Captain Creep makes me think you have one twisted sense of humor."

"A, could you drop the endearments? That won't make playing nice any easier. B, humor has nothing to do with it; I'm concerned with your safety. And c, it won't be all that bad. Trust me, a house that size, you two won't exactly be tripping all over each other." I pointedly kept my mouth shut, folding my arms defiantly over my chest. Practical or not, the idea sucked.

One hour later as we pulled through the electronically controlled gates, I wasn't any crazier about the idea. I looked at the mansion of glass and stone, and wanted to jump out of the moving car. If I wasn't pregnant, I might have just on principle. _And I thought Mick's place had the cold vibe going on,_ I thought to myself.

And this was going to be home? Yeah, right.


	14. Intoxicating Conversation

"Hi, come on in," the rather curvaceous young thing at the door chirped. She was wearing nothing but a bikini, and when I say bikini, I mean a thong and two eye patches over her boobs. She was bronzed from head to foot, courtesy of either a great spray job, or the Californian sun. I mean, I'm tan too, but part of my genetics are Middle Eastern, so duh. Her golden blonde hair shimmered around her toned shoulders, not a speck of body hair to be found on her perfect skin. Wow, she must spend a lot of money on wax. Or should I say, Josef does. No doubt he forked over a lot for that diamond choker around her neck and the matching gear around her wrist and ankle. "I'm Leslie. You must be Leni."

"Yeah, hi. How's it going?" I hear myself say, more than a little incredulous. I shouldered my bag of belongings, looking around. I can feel my eyebrows practically trying to leap off my face. Walking further into the house, it looks like one big locker room, only it's totally co-ed. A couple shirtless guys are right at home, wearing really thin swimming shorts, and they're totally ripped. Mick looks totally embarrassed, like he wants to crawl under a rock or something. He's probably used to it, (if this is normal for Josef anyway) but it's probably a lot worse when there's another witness, who is only here because it was his idea.

"This is a non-judgment zone," she was telling us. Her voice reminded me of the Barbie dolls from Toy Story 2. (One of Mara's favorite, and actually I did enjoy it.) Geez, how could anyone sound so cheerful? I mean, I know she was living in the lap of luxury, but she lived with Josef. She must be spiking her herbal tea with something, that's all I could figure. "Clothing is optional. Josef encourages us to be one with our sexuality and self-confidence."

"Oh, I bet he does." I wriggled my eyebrows in Mick's direction. He just groaned helplessly. "Whata guy."

"Do you want to meet the girls?" I want to say something sarcastic, but the look in her pretty green eyes is completely genuine. Even if she is disgustingly beautiful and way, way too perky, she seems to be a nice person.

"Maybe some other time," Mick hastily interjects. Some of the girls and one of the guys are blatantly checking him out. That doesn't seem to be helping his comfort level. I feel a wise crack coming on strong, but decide to have pity. Even this saintly P.I. has his limits, I have a feeling. "Do you know where Josef wants her to stay?"

Looking around, I can't help but notice the other girls. A pair is on the couch, one Hispanic, and one from Asian descent. They're both wearing 'swimwear' and eyeballing me. One just looks curious, but the Latina girl is giving me the evil eye. I met her gaze head-on, giving her a 'what are you going to do about it' look. Seriously, did she think I was interested in competing with her? Over what? Josef Kostan? I could have saved her the anxiety, trust me.

Mick gently touched my arm, and I broke the staring contest. "Come on, Leni. Your apartment's this way."

"My apartment?" I echoed, shaking my head as I followed Mick out of the exhibition parlor, down a corridor luxuriously carpeted, and there was probably priceless art on the walls. Leslie stayed behind. At the end of this hall of opulence, there was a sleek elevator that we stepped into. Yeah, that's right, an elevator. "Doesn't exactly believe in simple living, does he?"

The doors closed behind us. "Josef doesn't believe in self-deprivation, no."

I had to snort at that. "Yeah, I noticed. What's with the harem? Are they all his 'girlfriends?' How much Viagra is he taking?"

"I forgot to ask," Mick drawled. He pressed the button that was labeled 'B3.' "As for the women downstairs, all of them provide Josef with…company, I guess. Some are more special than others. But his favorites wouldn't be down there anyway. They each other their own special section in the house or their own place."

"How progressive," I said, not impressed and not afraid to show it. To me, it seemed to be like the ones downstairs were the glorified booty calls, all hanging around just in case Mr. High and Mighty snapped his fingers. It took women back fifty years, if you asked me, though I had the feeling that no one would.

"Josef goes for shock value," Mick warned me. "The more of a reaction he get's, the more outrageous he'll get. It's better just to go with the flow."

"And you do?"

"It saves time." It sounded like he was the voice of experience on this one. "Underneath it all, Josef's a genuinely decent guy."

"An acquired taste, you said," I reminded him as the doors slid open. We stepped out onto another hall, but this one was different. It was nice, but more down-to-earth, I guess. There was blue wallpaper up in a mellow shade, a few watercolors on the wall. Our shoes clicked on the hard wood floors, the sound occasionally muffled by the random throw rug. There were three doors, and Mick opened the middle one.

"This is it," he announced, gesturing in a wide sweep. I was surprised into speechlessness. The place was…cozy, normal, and welcoming. I sat down on the burgundy couch, surprised that Josef Kostan would have put a room together like this. Then again, he probably didn't. He probably clapped his hands and sent some lackey to do it. Or maybe one of his booty calls got bored and decided to get creative. "Do you like it?" Mick was asking.

"Actually, yeah. I'll be at home here."

"Well, there's a load off my mind." I looked up at the doorway; to see Josef lounging against the frame. He looked about as thrilled to see me as I was thrilled to see him.

"Well, on second thought…" I muttered. Mick shot us both a stern look. I forced a smile. "Hello, Josef. Thanks for letting me stay here." I almost grimaced. Geez, could I sound any more fake if I tried?

"Well, I couldn't turn down my best friend in a time of need, now could I?" Translation: 'Don't flatter yourself; I'm doing this for Mick.' Fine by me. Like I wanted any favors from this jerk. "Let's all just be glad that it's temporary."

"Amen," I shot back, not able to help myself. Uh-oh, Mick was giving me the look again, but Josef didn't look fazed. Small wonder, with his personality, he's probably letting insults and reprimands roll off his back all day.

"Look, I have some afternoon errands to run," Mick was telling us. "I'm gonna leave. When I come back to pick Leni up this evening, I don't want to walk into a battle zone. Got it?" He turned to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "You'll be fine; you're a survivor, Leni. Try to make this work, for my sake, okay? I can't be ten places at once, I'm not superman. This is my best shot at being able to protect you right."

"Fine," I muttered, resigned. "So basically keep all smart-ass comments to myself?"

"Hey, I'm a realist," Mick countered. Josef scoffed, but was ignored. "Just limit them, okay? Can you do that? And don't…be difficult just for fun, hmmm?"

"Spoil sport." But I grinned, and hugged him. "I'll make the best of it, Mick, I promise."

Mick's arms went around me, squeezing gently. He rubbed my back for a few seconds, and then the moment was over. I was kind of surprised Josef didn't offer some gem of sarcasm, but miracle of miracles, he kept his yapper shut. Josef left with Mick, but the last thing I heard Mick say was: "And as for you, Josef…" It perked me up that I wasn't the only one getting lectured. Immature of me? Sure. But I figured I'd earned a little immaturity, at least for right now.

The somewhat perky feeling went south mighty fast when Josef came back into the room. I stifled a groan. "I could have been changing," I pointed out.

"There's a bedroom for that."

"And if I was one of those types that likes to walk around in the buff?" Okay, so I wasn't, but he didn't know that.

He didn't even miss a beat. "Then I'd have to drop by unannounced more often."

"Lucky me. Wouldn't your girlfriends get jealous?" If he thought I was going to stutter over a little innuendo, he better buckle his seatbelt, because he was in for a bumpy ride.

"My girls know how much value I put on sharing." There was a twinkle in his eyes that I would have found endearing if he wasn't such a sleaze. "We're all one big happy family."

"I'm sure the unlimited credit cards help," I mused, pretending to think it over real hard. Then I shook my head, ready to get down to business. "Look, not that this isn't fun, but I'm sure you didn't come by this wing of the manor for chit-chat."

"Why, Miss Hayes, are you suggesting that this intoxicating conversation should ever end?" A look of mock horror crept over his face, and I had to choke down the laughter that bubbled up. I mean, I didn't want to encourage him, right? Still, I was beginning to see in small doses how he might be construed as charming. In mighty small doses.

"I'm suggesting," I said dryly. "Look, what's the deal? What do you want?"

In a blink, his expression changed, his face settling into hard, cold lines. "I don't want us to misunderstand each other, Leni. Let's just lay the cards on the table."

"Just spit it out." He stepped into the room, shutting the door with his foot, circling me like a wolf circles a wounded deer. I shivered. Not exactly the most comforting mental comparison I could have made.

"I don't know what you're up to, but you're hiding something." His voice is soft, cold, knowing. It creeps me out more than if he started ranting and raving. "Mick must be off his game, because he can't see it."

"Or maybe you're just paranoid and need therapy," I suggest flippantly. "Just make sure he's middle-aged and overweight or you might get distracted."

He's standing in front of me now, just inches from me. I hate giving him the satisfaction, but I stumble back, unnerved. "Nervous?"

"Back off," I spit, going for pissed rather than shaky. "If you hurt me-"

"I don't hurt pregnant women." Oh, yeah, like that's some big-Wait a minute. How did he know…could he sense it? Did Mick tell him? "Surprised? Don't be. Mick and I have few secrets."

"It wasn't his secret to tell." If I sounded resentful it was because I was. I knew I couldn't hide the pregnancy for much longer, but damned if I wanted my baby being the topic over Poker Night.

"Don't succumb to righteous indignation just yet. Our hero told me so I'd go easy on you." He pauses, waiting for some kind of response. I kept my mouth shut, waiting to see where he was going with this. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I don't plan on going easy on you. I'm going to have my eye on you. If you slip up, and you will, I'll be the first to know."

I didn't even bother keeping the contempt out of my voice, and I could feel my face twisting in anger. "Oh, you've got a spy cam around? Bathroom footage oughta be entertaining."

"That brand of voyeurism isn't really my thing. It's a little too close to rape for my tastes. There are some boundaries, Leni, even I would never cross. Well, not that I'd ever need to." Does he care if I believe him or not?

"That's good to know," I ventured hesitantly, most of my anger draining away. "Okay, let's agree that you're not a rapist, and let's agree that I'm not some kind of international spy that for some bizarre reason is out to hurt you or Mick. Come on, Josef, what's my motive for being a threat?"

"I have a lot of business…rivals…and Mick's stepped on quite a few toes over the years. Someone could have hired you as a plant." I can tell he's choosing his words carefully, calculating how much to reveal and how. His eyes are penetrating, searching.

"Well, bully for you, but I don't give a rat's ass about your business." Maybe _I _needed to get a few things across to _him_. "I'm about to testify against a cold-blooded killer who wants to wipe me out. Oh, yeah, and I'm about to embark on single motherhood, and try to find some way to keep my head financially above water. I don't have the energy to obsess over your stupid life or dig into Mick's personal affairs."

"Which is why you were snooping through his things?" Oh, brother. Nag, nag, nag.

"Didn't we cover all that this morning?" I asked. "It was all about Steinbeck, okay? Is literature a crime?"

"You were looking for something, Leni, and I want to know what it was. And until you tell me, I'm not going to let up."

"So, you're going to hang around me, bitching about a bookshelf?" I smirked at how annoyed he looked. Good. That made us about even. "Didn't think so. Look, be all obsessed if you want about the big bad mystery. Happy hunting, Sherlock. But Mick trusts me, and I trust him, and that's all that matters."

"Touching," he clips out at me, jamming his hands in his trouser pockets. "Now, there's a couple rules to make your stay all the less inconvenient for me."

"Oh, fabulous. Should I take notes?" I chirped, doing an imitation of Leslie downstairs.

Probably in spite of himself, his lips twitched at the corners. "Rule 1, everything you need is in this apartment. There's a fully stocked refrigerator, a working bathroom with a more than adequate sized bathtub and shower, and there's an exit off the kitchen that will take you out of the house. This generosity has a very specific purpose, to keep your snooping self out of my house. One foot outside this apartment into my personal domain and you've got yourself an eviction notice. Clear?"

"Kind of harsh," I observed, thinking about it. "And if a psycho breaks in and is chasing me with a gun? What am I supposed to do? Scream: 'But Josef won't let me into the rest of the house, so can you please chase me in the direction of the other exit?'"

"If someone was efficient enough to buck my security system, get into the house without detection, then I doubt you could get away from them in the first place." _Oh, yeah, that's comforting,_ I thought. "Leni, when I agreed to let you stay here, I took responsibility for you and your safety. Nothing is going to happen to you. Mick would never let me live it down, and that's simply unacceptable."

"I'm going to hold you to that," I warned him.

"Rule number two, no houseguests. Since you aren't even paying rent, buying your own food-"

"Look, do you think I like owing anyone anything? Especially you? It's a total yuck." I took a deep breath to keep my voice volume manageable. "I'm going to get a job as soon as possible. I haven't yet because staying alive has been kind of a priority, silly me."

"Point taken," he conceded smoothly. "Trust me, you aren't even making a ripple in my finances, but I expect to get what I pay for."

"You mean like buy me like you buy everyone else," I accuse.

"From your tone I gather you perceive that as a regrettable practice?" He straightened his Hermes tie, looking like he was ready to pose on Business 500.

"Duh."

"You know of a better way to control a situation?" He looks genuinely curious as to how I'll respond.

"Great, a paranoid control freak. So, no houseguests, no venturing into the palace of excessiveness. Anything else?" Actually, I didn't have much of a problem with anything so far, it was the attitude I could have done without.

"My maids will clean up once a week-" he started to say.

"I can clean up after myself," I informed him quickly. Knowing Josef, he'd probably have his maids go through my stuff and report back to him.

"Good, then you won't have a culture shock when you leave. However, as long as you're in my house, my maids will clean up. I have a very high standard of perfection in housekeeping, and I doubt you're up to it." Good grief, could he be any more condescending? "Still, go ahead and pick up after yourself. I don't want more valuable time being wasted here than necessary."

"I'll try," I sniped, wanting to take that tie and shove down into his big mouth, down his throat. "So, can I be expecting you just to barge on in whenever you want? And what about your harem? Do they come and go whenever they feel like it?"

Josef considered me for a minute or two before answering me. "I reserve the right to stop by whenever I feel like it, since this is part of my property. However, if any one of my 'harem' as you so wittingly refer to them, want to visit, they will call first." He gestured to the intercom in the wall. It had a lot of buttons. Below each button was a room name, including several of the girls, I guess in case I wanted to buzz someone in particular. "If you're not home, then they won't come up."

"Also, I'd like to know when the maids will be coming by to clean, so I can be here for that."

"So they don't lift your valuables?" His tone implied I probably didn't have much to lift. It was kind of insulting, even if he was right.

"Or maybe I just get lonesome," I countered tartly.

"Here." He handed me a piece of paper. It was a bunch of letters and numbers jumbled together. "Memorize this. This is the access code to your exit out of the building."

I stared at the paper, feeling my brow wrinkle in confusion. "Um, you couldn't just use a key?"

"If you've been around Mick for any length of time, you understand how little good a mere lock can do faced with the wrong person." He led me to the kitchen, opened the door. Beyond, there was a narrow passageway that led to a steep set of stairs. I flicked on the light switch, but after looking down the 3 flights of stairs, all I saw was a wall.

"Um, Josef, do you expect me to dig my way out?" He sighed at what he perceived as annoying ignorance, and led me down. I clutched at the railing, and reminded myself to take it slow. When we made it to the bottom, he pulled back what had looked like a part of the wall, which revealed a small panel of buttons. He punched in the letters and numbers he'd given me, and the wall slid away. "Oh. Cool. I guess it's like that on the other side?"

"Coincidentally, yes." It was the same set-up, and I had to admit, it was a good idea. An idea from a paranoid mind, sure, but a good one, anyway. "Now, remember where the access area is, unless you want to have to call Mick for help. That would be a little embarrassing."

"I'll manage," I snapped. I reminded myself beggars couldn't be choosers, that I was lucky to have a rent-free, (okay, bill-free) place to stay until I got on my feet. Not to mention, I knew in my bones I'd be safe here. Josef, asshole that he might have been, would be able to provide a safe place. I believed him when he said he'd be able to watch out for me.

It's probably a good thing that I didn't know some monsters could breach any wall, no matter how high.


	15. Simone

I had hours to kill before Mick picked me up, and I was about to flip on the TV for some mind-numbing entertainment. It sure wouldn't be on the E channel, I'd had about as much of celebrity dirt as I could stand. Before I could indulge, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was one of his girls since he wouldn't knock. Nope, he'd just barge right in and start running off at the mouth.

Resigned to my fate, I opened the door. There was a woman standing there alright, but she wasn't what I was expecting. She was pretty enough, don't get me wrong, but she wasn't fabricated perfection, she wasn't a living Barbie. She was a normal looking chick. She was dressed in a gray business suit with a yellow blouse to jazz it up. I liked her smile, it wasn't Stepford or bitchy around the edges.

"Hi," I ventured. "What can I do for you?"

She held out a slender but efficient looking hand. "Hi. I'm Simone. Is this a bad time?"

I took her hand, shaking it briefly. "That would be a no. I'm Leni Hayes, how ya doing? Come in." I stood aside, not too worried about letting a stranger in. Josef wasn't exactly Mr. Easy Going; he wouldn't let anyone he didn't trust into his not so humble abode. "So, what are you doing in this place? You don't seem plastic."

"Oh, you're referring to the parade of beauties." She smiled, looking like she thought that was normal. "Not easy on a woman's self-esteem, is it?"

"Bah." I waved the comment aside. "Who cares? More power to them." I flopped on the couch, eying her curiously. "So, you work for Josef? His assistant or something?"

"Oh, one of his lawyers. He's got quite a collection. When you have his kind of money, that's just common sense." I gestured for her to sit, wondering if her and Kostan ever hit the desk in another sense of the word. Still, it was a planet away from my business.

"Oooh, working for Josef, that must be a treat." She laughed, smoothing her light brown hair away from her face. "So, how'd you get suckered into that?"

"I didn't get suckered into anything," she corrected me mellowly. "Trust me, working for Josef Kostan is considered quite the coo. We're talking the big times, your golden ticket. Not to mention, the pay's amazing." On another woman, that might have sounded totally shallow, but from her, it just sounded rational. Something about her made me bet she kicked ass in court. "What's your arrangement with Josef?"

"We don't have an 'arrangement'. He's just letting me crash here for a little while 'cause Mick…uh, his friend, Mick St. John, asked him to." I saw the light of recognition in her eyes. "Do you know Mick?"

"Before I met Josef, actually. He's the one who gave me the reference." She sounded affectionate, but not in a sexual or romantic way. Just like he was a good friend. Probably like I'd sound if anyone asked me. "See, I thought my boyfriend was cheating on me, and hired Mick."

"Was he?" I couldn't resist asking.

"No, but it turned out he had a gambling problem, and was stealing to support his habit. Needless to say he's an _ex_-boyfriend." She came off pretty philosophical about the whole thing, and I got the feeling it wasn't the heartbreak of her life. Then she frowned. "Leni Hayes, Leni Hayes. Oh, God, are you that poor girl that's testifying against Amir Fayed?"

"Yep, lucky me. Tomorrow I've got a date with the courts." Since the sympathetic look in her eyes wasn't patronizing or anything, I actually appreciated it. I didn't feel so alone. I had Mick, and I wouldn't mind having another friend. "Hey, if you're bored tomorrow, show up. I hear it's going to be quite the circus."

"That's what I understand, yes. It must be tough, but at least you've got Mick in your corner."

"True. I think I'd be in some padded cell right now if it weren't for him. He's just got this way of making things seem…better." She looked like she knew exactly what I meant. "So, after you kicked the loser to the curb, I guess you two stayed in touch."

"Well, he needed my help on a legal matter, and the rest came together. A couple months later, I got the job with Josef." She stretched her short but toned legs. I wonder how many hours in the gym that took.

"So, how long have you been working for King Midas?" She made a startled sound at that, then chuckled.

"Oh, about three months. Now, for some reason, I'm getting the feeling that you don't like him," she teased. "Any particular reason?"

"Um, he's a dick?" I didn't add 'duh' but it was heavily implied. She didn't just chuckle, she let out a full laugh at that one. I really didn't mean to be funny, but hey, whatever floated her boat, right?

When she recovered, her hand pressed to her chest, she leaned her head close conspiratorially. "I know that's how Josef can come off, but I think a lot of that's smoke and mirrors."

I snorted. "You're reaching."

"No, no, I don't think I am. It's not a pretense, but an exaggeration. I think it's his way of controlling people." Wow, she looked like she was really buying into that theory. Was she just really optimistic or full-blown delusional? "A man with his kind of power can't afford to be soft."

"Trust me, he get's his kicks out of being a jerk. Maybe he's cool with you because you're useful, but if you're not, forget about it." I'd made my mind up about Josef, and even I was beginning to really like Simone as a human being, (at least I think she was) she wasn't going to change things.

"It's more complicated than that. You'll see." She gave me a knowing smile.

"Oh, I already see," I argued, crossing my arms over my chest. "So, what kind of work do you do for His Highness?"

"I prefer Majesty," he drawled from the doorway. I gave him an unrepentant smirk, but inside, I was a little thrown. Just how long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? And why was he darkening my doorway? "Simone, it's time for that conference call. Take care of it, will you?"

I half expected her to go into submissive mode, and scurry off to do his bidding, but she pleasantly surprised me. She looked nothing but relaxed as she got to her feet, winking casually at me. "Duty calls. See you around?"

"Sure." I also got to my feet, purposefully ignoring the pain across the room. "Anyone whose brave enough to work for him is definitely worth talking to twice."

She chuckled warmly, and left the room. There was definitely a little look between them there. I don't think they were involved…yet, but they were definitely doing the circle dance. Personally, getting involved with Josef Kostan seemed about as smart as diving off a cliff with dynamite attached to your back, but that was just me. Still, from what I'd seen of Simone, she seemed smart and aware. She could probably handle it. Who knows? Maybe she was just after Josef's body.

"What?" I asked when it was obvious he wasn't going to follow his lawyer.

"My association with Simone is none of your business. That includes exactly what she does for me. I wouldn't advise any more questions of that nature." Wow, there was a poorly veiled threat. He wasn't even subtle. I mean, between the look on his face and his tone that veil was sheer. What next? An offer I couldn't refuse?

I wanted to tell him to fuck off, I really did, but I pressed my lips together, thinking of Mick. "Fine. Corporate stuff is a big yawn fest anyway. Well, there's the door, don't let it hit your ass on the way out. Oh, wait, please do." Okay, so I wasn't totally behaving, but it was an improved version of what I wanted to say.

To my surprise, Josef left without further commentary. I couldn't help but wonder if Simone had seen that side to Josef yet, that cold, potentially cruel side. I wanted to warn her, but she thought she had him all figured out. Trust me, when a girl has her mind made up about a guy, God Himself could send her a memo, and she'd still have her head buried in the sand.

Two hours later, I was catching up on Young and the Restless, when Mick showed up. I was stretched out on the couch, trying to unwind. When I saw him, I raised an eyebrow. "Here to catch the scoop on the latest happenings in Genoa City?"

"What?" He looked totally lost. I gestured to the soap, which he stared at blankly for a few seconds. "Women actually still watch these things?"

"Not just women," I defended. "Okay, okay, so the male audience is definitely a lower percentage, but details, details. So why are you here so early?"

"I'm not. The appointment's earlier than I said." I sat up abruptly, feeling my brow wrinkle in confusion. Mick sighed, and took a seat next to me. "Leni, maybe it's overkill, but I want to stay one step ahead of Fayed. The appointment's listed at 7:30, but Doctor Myer and I worked it out for 5:45."

"In case Fayed has someone in the office," I finished flatly. God, what had my life turned into? A spy novel? Josef certainly seemed to think so. Should I tell Mick about his friend's serious delusion? Or would Josef just see that as big bad sabotage and freak him out worse? "Good thinking, I guess."

"Pretty soon, this will just be a crazy memory," he told me, gently pulling me to my feet. He switched off the TV, making a slight face. "Look, don't think about Fayed, let me do that. You've got the tough job, taking care of the baby." He patted my rounding stomach, his touch almost reverent. I couldn't help but think what an awesome dad Mick would make, vampire or not. "So how are you and Josef getting along?"

"Well, no bloodshed yet," I muttered as I got ready to head out the door.

Mick chuckled, shaking his head. "Good to hear. I hope you two work it out."

"Nothing to work out," I informed him. "Oh, I can't use that exit, we'll have to use the kitchen door."

"Why?" Mick called after me as I headed that way.

"Oh, because I'm not allowed to step foot outside the apartment. He said I'd get bounced if I did."

"He said what?" Mick sounded incredulous, and a little ticked off.

"It's not a big deal. I mean, I'm living here rent free, I don't have room to gripe." Wait a minute. Was I actually defending Josef? "Not like I have any reason to go out there anyway."

"That's not the point," Mick countered. He put a hand on both of my shoulders, gave me a gentle squeeze. "Wait here."

In two strides, he was across the room, and I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. Sure, I wasn't afraid of Josef, or I wouldn't run off at the mouth like it was going out of style, but I didn't want to actively challenge his authority about the house arrangements. I mean, men were all 'my home is my castle' and all that bullshit. They can be really touchy. "Uh, Mick, where are you going?"

"I'm going to have a word with Master Kostan," he clipped out. There was a gleam in his eye I don't think I'd seen before. "You just sit tight." Before I could say anything else, he was gone.

"Oh, boy." I sank onto the couch, and switched on the TV. "You think you've got problems?" I grumbled at the whining woman on my screen. "Try my life on for size."

I didn't have much time to get into the show, because Mick was breezing through the door about five minutes later. "Come on, we're running late."

"Should I pack up?" I wasn't 100 joking. I bet Josef wasn't too thrilled with me right now, even if going up against his sacred rule wasn't my idea. Of course, because Mick was his buddy, and I was just the big-mouth thorn in his side, I'd be the one to get flack for it.

"Of course not." Mick rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He gently gripped my arm, towed me over to the door. "You're not being kicked out, Leni."

"He's not mad?" Somehow, I found that hard to believe.

We headed down the hall and back into the elevator. I still couldn't get over somebody having an elevator in their house. "No. You can come and go as you please," was all the answer I got. It didn't exactly clear anything up. But no matter how I kept at him, he wouldn't elaborate.

I was a nervous wreck through the whole appointment. I was suddenly freaked out about all the doctor's visits I'd skipped. Sure, I didn't have much of a choice, my first priority had just been surviving, but what if there was something really wrong with my baby and it was all my fault?

Thankfully, Doctor Myer was a sweetheart. She looked like she was in her late 30's, maybe early 40's, with prematurely gray hair, a friendly heart-shaped face, twinkling green eyes, and a wide smile. She had a slight French accent, (either that or Italian) but at this point, it was more of an international flavor than anything. Her hands felt cool to the touch as she gently poked and prodded me. "Bad circulation," she said with an apologetic look. A few days ago, I would've bought it, but since I had vampires on the brain, not so much.

They took my blood, they took my pee, checked my blood pressure, (I'm amazed it wasn't sky high) and measured me. Mick was right there, and I'm sure he wanted to fall to his knees and thank God for making him male. I was a little embarrassed, because you do have to strip down into that little gown, but what can I say? I was having a needy moment, and Mick kept the self-pity at bay. Besides, he was so cool about it, you'd never even think he was uncomfortable. He held my hand, told jokes (some bad, some good) to keep me distracted, and asked the doctor concerned questions.

My baby and I were blessed to have him. Mick was going to make an awesome Godfather.

I mentioned that while they were preparing the ultrasound. The look of amazement on his face was so cute, I had to laugh. "You…you want _me_ to be the Godfather?"

"Duh. Look, the point of a godparent is to have somebody extra to look out for your kid, right?" I didn't give him a chance to answer. "Well, who better? I mean, you've already knocked yourself out for me and my precious cargo. I'd be an idiot not to ask you. I mean, you know, if you want to."

Was he tearing up? "Leni…I…a godparent is supposed to be much more than an extra hand on deck. They're supposed to be a guide-"

"Still not seeing the problem," I interrupted.

He blinked rapidly. I guess it's not all manly to be caught crying. I could see a look of what could be shame cover his face. "You don't want your baby looking up to me as an example, trust me. Look, you've known me for what…30 hours?"

"Sounds about right."

"And you think that's enough time to decide something like this?" he sputtered.

"In this case, yes." I smiled, and touched his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I do know you, Mick. Every detail, no, you've got me there. But does anyone ever know everything about anyone? The point is I've got a sense of you as a person."

"Somehow, I doubt that," he murmured. "Just think about it. I won't get bent out of shape if you change your mind."

I wagged my finger at him. "You're just trying to get out of babysitting."

Before he could comment on that, the doctor returned, all ready to show me my baby. She rubbed the gel on me, which made me squeal in surprise. "It's cold!" I defended myself at Mick, who raised an eyebrow. Doctor Myers just chuckled.

That day I saw my baby for the first time. "That's the head," the doctor explained, pointing. "The baby's curled up…sucking its thumb from the looks of it."

My throat closed and I was crying like an idiot. I've always loved my baby, but motherhood was still just an idea…now it felt real in an earth shattering way. Then I started laughing. I've never laughed and cried at the same time before, but it seemed perfectly normal to my doc. Then again, she probably get's this a lot.

After I was dressed and sitting at her desk with Mick by my side, she smiled at both of us. "Everything's perfectly normal. There's a single fetus, growing at a normal rate, and the heartbeat's perfectly typical. There's nothing worry about, Miss Hayes. So far, so good."

I clung to that, and to that feeling of maternal joy, because tomorrow I had to face a monster, and help put him away.

Of course, I should've known it wouldn't be easy.


	16. Perfect Day

Hello, my dear readers. It's time for my rare Author's Note. I wanted to explain that I meant to do the trial this chapter, but my muse had other ideas. I want to thank all my anonymous reviewers, especially Ak, for their loyal support. I know this is a slow story guys, but I'll warn you next chapter should speed up nicely. I know this is under 'adventure' and I'm still committed to living up to that.

**Adventures with Mick St. John and Company**

It was no big surprise that I had a nightmare that night. I think when you try to block something out, your mind just kind of springs it on you when you're asleep 'cause you're vulnerable. And man, did I have something to block out. I'm no stranger to nightmares, I've been living one ever since Jack got blown away. But none were so bad as the night before the trial.

In my dream, I'm holding my baby in a blue blanket, and you can hear him making those sounds babies make, like gurgling and kind of laughing. I'm happy, calling him Jack, bouncing him in my arms. We're in the park on one of those perfect days, and Mick is watching from the shade. I wave at Mick, and call out something, I can't remember what. I start to go over to him, because the baby's holding his arms out to him and trying to say Mick, but it comes out more like 'Mrk.'

Then I hear Jack's voice: "Hey, beautiful. Hey, Leni…come and get me." All of a sudden, the baby's in the shade, and Mick's holding him, sort of singing or just talking real soft, I can't tell which. I can see Jack way off in the distance, and I don't know what to do. I want my baby back, but I miss Jack so much, and I know that my kid's safe with Mick. So I run after the man I love, wanting to throw my arms around him and never let go.

So I'm running and I'm running, but my legs are like jelly, and it's tough to even lift them. You know how it can be in dreams, everything's whacked. And Jack's laughing, teasing me, trying to get me to go faster. Then I start falling all over the place, and I'm bleeding and bruised, and tired. This keeps going on and on until I can't move anymore.

Then Jack's standing over me, a hole in his head, the blood seeping out of the wound. "Shouldn't have made me snitch, sweetheart," he tells me, everything betrayed and disappointed. He holds up a gun out of nowhere and pulls the trigger. Next thing I know, I'm in the morgue, and Fayed's got my baby, one of his hands around my boy's throat.

Gentle hands are on my shoulders, and Mick's voice is in the background, but I can't hear it over my own screaming. I can't see…I can't see…there's a hard body against me, cotton against my cheek, and Mick's voice is getting louder, more insistent.

"Leni, Leni…shh…easy, honey, easy." I'm being rocked; his hands are in my hair. There's cotton around my brain, and I can't tell reality from nightmareville.

"He has him, he has him, he'll kill him," I gasp frantically. Why does my throat hurt? From screaming? "Why did you let him-"

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe." I was waking all the way up, and it was coming back to me. My baby wasn't even born yet, I was going to testify against Fayed today, and Jack couldn't shoot me. He was dead. Still was the universe trying to send me kind of warning? Did Jack hate me?

"It was horrible," I choked out, trying not to cry. I hugged Mick tight, trying to remind myself that I was stressed, that I was projecting. "He killed me, and then Fayed had the baby…in the morgue, and you went MIA." I'm not sure how much of that Mick understood, since I was talking so fast my words kind of ran into each other.

He started rubbing my back, resting his chin on my head. He was quiet for a few minutes, letting my heartbeat slow down a little, my breathing return to somewhere near normal. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you or that baby."

"You aren't God, Mick," I said bitterly. "Things happen, you know."

He tilted my chin up, looking me straight in the eyes. "You remember what I told you in that bathroom at the diner? That if you came with me I'd protect you both?"

"Yeah."

"Did you believe me?" I nodded, idly wondering in the back of my mind whether vampires could hypnotize or not. "Well, the statement still stands. Do you believe me now?"

"I trust you, Mick." So far, fanged or not, he hadn't given me a reason not to. Now Josef, on the other hand, I trusted him about as far as I could throw his big bad mansion. "Do you think he hates me?"

Mick was looking at me funny. "Fayed?"

"Well, yeah, no shit he hates me. I meant Jack." Geez, did I look as pitiful as I sounded? "You think he hates me?"

"Of course not. Leni, I saw the pictures, the guy was crazy about you."

Boy, was he missing the point. Where was his P.I. genius? "Sure, he wasn't dead yet."

"No kidding," Mick retorted, tweaking my hair playfully.

I lightly punched his arm. "My point is maybe he's pissed because I got him killed. Oh, Mick, what if he hates me because I wanted him to go straight?"

Sighing, Mick leaned back a little, his expression considering. "Okay, you said he was doing this for you, right? Did you twist his arm? Did you nag him until he was about ready to lose it?"

"No," I retorted, almost wincing at how defensive I sounded. "But he could tell that's what I wanted."

"You want my 2 cents?" he asked. I nodded, eager for some fresh insight. "People only change when they want to. They can fake it, but anything real only comes around when the person is sincerely fighting for it. I don't know how much more sincere you can get than going to the cops, and informing on Amir Fayed."

Resting my chin on Mick's shoulder, effectively closing the distance, I thought about that for a minute. "And do you think he's sorry?"

"Honestly? He's the only one that could answer that, and for obvious reasons, that's not going to happen." I snorted, closing my eyes, fighting the urge to wallow. "But whatever answer he might have given you, his choices were on him. If he's sorry he went down that road, he went down it on his own. Personally, I think it was admirable."

"So do I. Too bad it cost him big," I muttered. "I guess all I can do is finish the job, huh?"

"I guess so," he agreed.

That was the point where certain details clicked in. I hate tons of clothes on my body when I sleep, so I stripped down to a sheer camisole and my boxers before bed. (No more thongs for me, thanks.) So, here I was, pressed up against my new buddy, naked, except for two pieces of thin cotton. Geez, why didn't I just flash the guy and be done with it? How could I have not noticed? I guess I'd been really freaked out. What was even weirder was comfortable I felt, how natural it was. Not saying I was all hot for him, but it was nice.

Clearing his throat a tad uncomfortably, Mick must have noticed me figuring it out and eased away. I had to laugh at him. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Oh, come on, did you just now notice I wasn't wearing much, or are you just embarrassed I caught on?"

I'm surprised he wasn't blushing at this juncture. "Leni, I'm sorry…I didn't…it wasn't…it wasn't about-"

I started laughing so hard tears popped into my eyes. I doubled over at one point, so I can't tell you much about his expression. I tried to talk, but couldn't, so had to wait for myself to calm down. "Oh, Mick, you're really too easy, you know that?" I finally managed.

"How is this funny?" he blustered, or tried to. I think he was still too sheepish to pull it off.

"Where's your sense of humor?" I shook my head, patting his cheek in a sassy gesture. "Look, I know you didn't have any unclean thoughts. It's not like you came in to score, I was having a nightmare, and being the boy-scout you are, you stepped in to help. And you did. Thank you."

He seemed humbled at my genuine gratitude, averting his eyes bashfully, and shrugging. "No big thing, I was in the area anyway." He gestured to the clock which read 5:35 am. "Poker night with Josef ran late." The whole time, he's tugging the sheet around me.

Maybe I should have, but I found that I couldn't resist the urge to goad him a little. "Why so shy now, Mick? I think you've seen it."

"Leni, I wasn't looking! Well, not really…I mean, I didn't really get that good of a look…" he trails off to glare at me. "Oh, hah, hah. Very funny."

"I think so," I gasped out, my sides starting to hurt from all this hilarity. I straightened, wiping my eyes. "Mick, I know you're not the creepy pervert type. Besides, if you wanted to jump me, you could've done it like ten times by now. Like when I slept on your couch. Ever replace the bed, by the way?"

"Not yet." He wasn't looking at me, looking anywhere else he could, actually. Oh, I guess he hadn't forgotten about my theory for how his bed ended up being toast. Well, you leave an opening like that, what do you expect? "You want to try to go back to sleep? You don't have to be there until 9:30."

"I couldn't sleep if you paid me," I admitted. I took a minute to study him. "You on the other hand look like you could use some shut-eye."

"Just a nap," he told me. "I'll be back at 8:30 to pick you up. Even with traffic, we'll make it in plenty of time."

"'Kay." I almost asked how much sleep vampires needed, but caught myself in time. Obviously, I couldn't ask.

My next visitor arrived a couple hours later, (fortunately, I was a little more dressed this time) a radiant Simone who looked pretty in pink, (well, a pink suede jacket with black jeans to be exact) her silky hair bound up into a tidy bun, her eyes sparkling. It was disgusting that anyone could look so good at 7:30. Good thing I liked her, or I might be bitter.

"Oh, hey." I smiled, waving her in. "Morning person?"

"Excuse me?"

"You look pretty enthused for somebody who has to be up at such a sucky hour," I explained.

"Oh, well, a morning person? Not really, but I haven't been to bed yet," she admitted cheerfully. I kept looking at the garment bags slung over her arm, wondering what was up. "These are for you," she announced. She laid them down on the couch, unzipping them, revealing three suits with blouses.

"These are gorgeous." Okay, that was gushing. I officially gushed. Low point, low point. I was going to court, not out to a social event. But still, I'd never been offered anything so nice…clothes wise, anyway. And even if I wasn't a shop-until-you-drop type, I did like clothes, I admit it. I held up the coal colored one with the burgundy blouse, holding it against myself. "You mean you'll lend me whichever I want?"

"Give," she corrected with a beautiful smile. "All of them, you'd be doing me a favor. I was weeding out my closet, it was close to busting. I'm a major clothes horse," she admitted like she was confessing to a priest. "It's awful, really, I'm a major shopaholic, and I can't get enough. And don't get me started on shoes," she admitted on a groan.

I really did have to laugh. "That's not too bad."

"Let's just say it's good thing Josef pays good," she told me, looking exasperated with herself. "I'm trying to cut down, and when Josef mentioned you'd probably need clothes for the trial-"

Oh, wait, back the train up. "Uh, Josef mentioned this?"

"Yeah. He knew this was an important day, and he knew you'd probably need something appropriate." It was her turn to laugh at me. "Too bad I don't have a camera, the look on your face…"

"And he cared because?"

"Look, Leni," she said, placing a hand on my shoulder in a sisterly way. "I know he goes out of his way to make you think the opposite, but I think Josef likes you."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. That was asking just a little too much that I could swallow _that_.

"Why not? You're both stubborn enough for five people," she countered. "That's something in common, right? Somewhere to start, anyway."

"Start what?" I demanded, examining the suit better.

"A friendship?" she gestured hesitantly.

"Dream on. Maybe it'll get to the point where we can go five minutes without pissing the other off. I can really have these?"

"Sure. You want to try them on?" In the end, I picked the black suit with the red blouse. She helped me tie my hair back so I looked all adult and serious, giving me some lipstick and mascara to complete the look. We chatted easily, and she was definitely helping me keep my mind off what I had to face later. She really was a sweetheart, she'd even brought shoes and stockings.

Mick was right on time, actually knocking. Maybe he could give his buddy a lesson or two. Or wait, Mick had manners. Big difference. "Hello, Simone. It's good to see you," he told her once I told him to come in, looking like he meant it. It felt good to think that Mick might not be so alone. Did she know about his set of fangs?

"Likewise, as always. I was just keeping Leni company." She gestured to me, cocking her head thoughtfully. "I think you're ready."

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," I choked out.

"It's perfectly normal to feel nervous about testifying," Simone told me, eyes compassionate. "I've had to-"

Rushing to the bathroom, I barely made it to the toilet. Tears stung my eyes as what I'd managed to choke down at breakfast came up again. Oh, geez, it burns the roof of your mouth. The gross process seemed to happen again and again, my face wet with the moisture seeping out from my eye ducts. After it was over, I sagged against the cold marble, feeling like a wet rag that just got rung out. I heard low murmurs of conversation outside between Simone and Mick, but couldn't pick up on the actual words.

"The perfect beginning to a perfect day," I muttered with all the sarcasm I could muster at the moment. Well, I guess we'd have to do the lipstick again.


	17. Memory Trouble

My head hurt. That's the first thing I had an awareness of, for lack of a better term. I felt dazed and disoriented, and my slow and sluggish brain wasn't helping. I tried to move, but couldn't do more than wriggle. Why? I was having a hard time figuring it out. Focus, I needed to focus, but it was so hard. I was so groggy and tired, and it seemed easier just to sleep.

Maybe I did drift off again, I'm not sure. I had no sense of time, very little sense of myself. But finally a few details penetrated the fog of my mind. The throbbing was coming from my forehead, everything was dark because there was cloth over my eyes, and I couldn't move my arms because my wrists were tied. Yep, tied to the arms of a chair, and one with a really hard back. Weakly, I strained my whole body, but the rope (at least it felt like rope) didn't even budge. I shifted my legs, but my ankles were also bound. As out of it as I was, I knew it was bad, knew I was in trouble, but couldn't figure out why or how I was in this jam. "Mick," I heard myself say, my voice hoarse and shaky. This time I know I went unconscious; I could feel the fingers of oblivion steal me away.

I think I dreamed; weird wispy dreams that teased my battered psyche. All these voices were talking at me, Jack, Mick, even my mother. Through it all, a baby kept crying, saying 'Mama.' I don't think I need to be a shrink to decipher that one. I don't remember anything else, couldn't at the time.

My body was soaked in cold sweat by the time I came to, and I was shivering violently. It felt like someone had cranked up the AC as high as it would go. It was probably intentional, to keep me uncomfortable. I felt a little more lucid, like I could figure things out. _Come on, Hayes, think,_ I told myself. Okay, I was tired to a chair, had a splitting headache, was blindfolded, and felt like I was in a giant refrigeration unit. The good news was that I wasn't hurting anywhere else, especially my abdomen or stomach and I wasn't gagged. I perked up my ears, trying to make out any other sounds, but you could have heard a pin drop. Was that a good or bad thing, I wondered.

Since figuring out where I was seemed pretty hopeless, I concentrated on how I'd gotten wedged into this jam. I ran through the day in my head, hoping to jog my memory. Okay, I'd had the nightmare; Mick woke me up and being the sweetie he is, comforted me. Okay, so far, so good. Then what happened? It went blank for a few seconds, and then it came back to me. Later, Simone dropped by, playing fairy godmother. Where was Mick? Oh, yeah, he was taking a cat nap while that was going on. He'd come back, hadn't he? As I tried to put the puzzle of the day together, I was pretty sure he had, but it was hard to remember. Had I thrown up? Yeah, my stomach had betrayed me, I could remember that one vividly.

Slowly, I let myself drift back, images drifting through my brain slowly, my memory holding up shakily.

&

"Remind me never to eat scrambled eggs again," I grumbled, slinking out of the bathroom. Both Simone and Mick had sympathetic looks on their faces.

"Poor kid," Mick said, gently laying the back of his hand against my forehead then my cheeks. "I hear 7-Up and crackers help settle a stomach. Or maybe not," he added real quick when I made a face. Did I look green? I felt green.

"Do you have the flu?" I really couldn't call Simone's question stupid, since she had no idea that I was pregnant.

"Yeah, the 9 month kind." I tried to grin since it'd go nice with my flippancy, but I was fresh out of those. I felt like death warmed over, and I just wanted to go to bed and sleep for about a week, not testify against the asshole of the year.

"You're having a baby?" Something soft and reverent lit Simone's dark, expressive eyes. "Oh, Leni, congratulations! That's wonderful, really. When's the baby due? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"It's a little early for that." Funny, but her enthusiasm was perking me up somewhat. Not a lot, but every bit helped. "Um, the doc called the due date as March 18th, as best as we could figure. I'm over three months in." I looked down, realized my hand was resting protectively over my abdomen. "Everybody'll know soon. Maybe next month, if the baby's in the right position, we'll know about the sex. I mean, sure it'll ruin the surprise, but it kind of frees you up, knowing."

"For now it has to stay quiet," Mick interjected. "At least until Fayed's put away."

Simone nodded thoughtfully, giving me a reassuring wink. "Let's freshen your make-up. Mick says you've to get going pretty soon." I tried not to groan, tried to be a grown-up. I kept thinking of Jack, and how he'd done his part. Now I had to do mine. I repeated that to myself about twenty times as Simone fixed my make-up. I could have done it myself normally, but my hands were shaking too bad. Mick hurried me out the door, probably because he didn't want to give me time to think about what was coming down the pike.

"Aren't you going to give me a pep talk?" I asked shakily on the way to Josef's stupid elevator. How were all the women here so toned if they couldn't walk a set of stairs?

"Would it help?"

"That's not the point! As my friend and future godfather of my child, you should give me one anyway!" I exclaimed, drumming my fingers against my hip. Men, they always missed the point of the finer detail. I broke off to glare at Mick who was chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I was just thinking…all these years as a P.I. and I still have no idea how the female brain works." He shook his head, his lips quirking into an endearing smile. "You'll get through this, Leni. You've got too many guts and brains not to."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I informed him as the doors opened. I reconsidered the point on the way to the front door. "Okay, well, maybe _somewhere_. Still, I don't feel smart or brave. I feel like a big fat chicken, and you know chickens aren't known for their brain power."

"Well, you don't look like a big fat chicken," he offered in a teasing voice, and I just wanted to strangle him. Like it'd do him any harm, he's a vampire for crying out loud. "Leni, listen to me. I-" he broke off abruptly when he swung open the front door. I noticed that today the sun's rays were pretty vicious, even for LA at this time of year. His hand flew up to protect his already sunglass covered eyes, and I heard him suck in his breath violently.

"I can pull up the car," I volunteered quickly, gently shoving him back across the threshold. I held out my hand. "Keys."

Of course, he couldn't just give them to me. "I'm fine," he insisted. I gave him a look. "Okay, I'll _be_ fine. Just let me-"

"Are you worried I'll wreck your car, or are you just being macho?" I interrupted.

"First of all, we're not driving my car today-"

Again, I interrupted. "Why?"

"Because anyone can just run down my license plates, and if Fayed's done his homework, it won't take a brand of genius to spot the Benz. Just staying on the safe side," he assured me. Maybe I looked worried or something. Well, do you blame me?

"I'm assuming you have the keys to the car we _are_ driving," I pointed out. "What? Is it one of Josef's rides?"

"He collects them like they're Matchbox cars," Mick grumbled. Was it just me or was Mick wearing a shade of green resembling envy? Men and their cars, Jack was a big baby about them too. "And he's not crazy about even _me_ driving his Porsche."

"I'm not taking it for a joyride," I retorted. "Look, just give me the keys, okay? Don't argue," I added, trying to sound firm.

Reluctantly, Mick forked over the keys, and I could have sworn when he put them in my hands he was bracing himself. What? Did he expect Josef to come flying out the door with an axe in his hand? Lightning to flash itself out of the sky when there wasn't a cloud in sight? Well, guess what, no doom crashed down on our heads. He gestured to the spendy little number parked part way down the long driveway…

&

My trip down memory lane was interrupted abruptly. One second, I was in total darkness, the next minute, the blindfold was being ripped roughly from around my head, the fabric tearing. I hissed in surprise, fear and pain as the bright light stabbed my eyes. I screwed them shut against the sting, trying not to freak out. It was so creepy. I hadn't even heard anyone come up to me.

"You don't seem very comfortable, Ms. Hayes," a smooth, cultured voice snidely observed. _No shit, asshole, _I wanted to yell, but being tied up and at this guy's mercy, that might not be the best idea I ever had. For a second, my brain scrambled to peg the voice, but it wasn't familiar, not directly. The accent, however faint, reminded me of Fayed, though. It wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy type of familiarity.

"That's funny, because I'm just swell," I answered sweetly, brave enough to open my eyes into slits. I looked down, absently noted I was wearing the black suit Simone gave me. It was ruined, ripped up and dirty. The red blouse was stained past the point of fixing. I really didn't care. Inside, I was shaking, and if I hadn't vomited everything up, I'd be hurling for sure right now. The guy in front of me was good looking, wearing a suit that probably cost a mint, and looked classy. Why had Fayed sent this guy? How much sophistication did it take to kill someone? I mean, who else would have gone through the trouble of kidnapping me?

"I heard you were a brave one." He sounded like he thought that was cool or something. He grasped my chin, and instinctively, I twisted against his grip, forcing down the urge to try and bite him. "You're not St. John's woman, are you?"

It took my brain a second to grasp what he was asking. "You don't think I'm his type?" Speaking of which, where was Mick? I searched my mind hard for an answer, but part of it was still muddled. I was having trouble…it just wasn't coming back too clear. Oh, God. What if he was hurt, frying in a ditch somewhere?

The jerk actually looked me over. "If not, then he's a fool. If you cooperate, Ms. Hayes, no harm shall come to you."

"Hmm. Somehow, I don't feel reassured," I spat, unable to keep the venom welling up inside me to myself. I strained against my ropes. "Is this your version of what? Hospitality?"

"I truly hope that those won't be necessary for long." He smiled at me, and under normal circumstances, I would have labeled it friendly. "Are you hungry?"

"No," I gritted out. "A little chilly, though."

"We'll see if we can accommodate you."

"Okay, what's the punch line?" I demanded. "Why is Fayed messing with me? Why aren't you flashing a gun or a knife around?" I knew it was stupid to give him ideas, but the suspense was killing me. Was that the idea, to freak me out big time before he had me whacked?

"There's a lot you don't understand, my dear. But understand this. If you behave yourself, and answer my questions or that of any of my associates you and your unborn child will live. Perhaps even be rewarded."

My jaw literally dropped, and I knew I probably looked like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. "How…how do…do you know about my baby?" I finally managed to stutter.

"There isn't a lot about you we don't know, Ms. Hayes. Your doctor, Julia Myers, is on our payroll. Even bloodhound St. John couldn't undercover that little tidbit." I closed my eyes, letting my head bow forward. So my doctor was in league with these creeps. Just my luck. Who could I trust? I'd obviously landed in the Twilight Zone, and all the rules were whacked. "Don't take it so hard, Leni. May I call you Leni?" Maybe it's a good thing my hands were tied to the arms of the chair, because I was tempted to smack him. "Everyone has their price, you see. Even you, I suspect. Don't worry, your baby is perfectly sound. We were very careful to be gentle when obtaining you."

"And my head feels like you hit with a hammer because…?" I just let the sarcasm go unchecked, it was one of the few pleasures I was allowed right now.

"My apologies. I assure you, it is only a paltry injury."

When I finally opened my eyes, he was gone. I wanted to cry, but didn't for two reasons. 1, they probably had a camera hooked up somewhere, and I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction. Two, with tears come snot, and that's just nasty when you don't have a tissue. So, I was resolved to suck it up. The knowledge that my baby was okay, at least according to that guy, was okay helped me hang on to control. I believed him because I couldn't handle the alterative.

Still, what really made it hard not to cry were the parts I couldn't remember. Where was Mick? Had they killed him? I had a hard time believing he was alive. He never would have let anyone take me if he wasn't at least seriously hurt. Ugh! Why couldn't I just remember? And what about the trial? Did Josh think I flaked out on him? Would Fayed get off the hook?

And I thought I'd been living a nightmare before.


	18. Bait and Plants

I came to with a start, jerking so hard I almost came out of the chair. Relief over the fact I was no longer tied up, despair at my overall situation and confusion for why I'd been unconscious **again** collided, settled into one sticky ball at the pit of my stomach. This whole having trouble remembering how I ended up from point A to point Z was getting really, really old.

Then I got it. The pressure point at my neck, someone took advantage of it to knock me out when they untied me, just like in some James Bond movie. It made sense; they probably didn't want the hassle of their unhappy guest trying to make a mad dash for the nearest exit. I bolted out of the chair now, my bladder so full, it was uncomfortable. I hadn't used the bathroom since 8:00 this morning, small wonder. I was going to burst any second. What was I supposed to do, use the floor? My eyes spotted two doors in the room. One was locked, so I tried the other one. I could've cried when I saw the small toilet and sink behind the second door.

A minute later, feeling much better, I returned to my cell, absently noting that the room temperature was no longer frigid. Actually, it felt just right, probably 68 or 69 degrees. So, they were trying to kill me with kindness. What, did they think that not freezing me to death and untying me when I was trapped anyway was going to make up for the fact they kidnapped me? Yeah, I was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

But who were **they**? Their spokesman was high-dollar, and initially, with the verbal and physical similarities to Amir Fayed, I'd assumed they were my ex-boss' goons. But the fact that I was alive and not being tortured put a damper on that theory. But who else would want to kidnap me? Obviously, it wasn't your run of the mill rapist, because no one had been at me. Even if they'd done the deed while I was out, (major eww) I think I'd know. Unless…they were just feeling me up…okay, not going there! I was going to drive myself crazy if I started letting my imagination go. It was scary enough without me adding to it.

I wrapped my arms around my middle, terrified about the fact that whoever had me knew I was pregnant. Had my doctor _really_ tipped them off or did they have another way of knowing they didn't want me to figure out? Were they vampires? I didn't want to go and start seeing vampires everywhere, but if it wasn't Fayed, it made sense. I knew for a fact Mick was one, and I was sure Josef was one, so maybe they'd pissed someone off, and I was caught in the middle. Was Beth down the hall from me? If any human connected to Josef and Mick was going to be kidnapped, then you could add Simone to that list too. (I was assuming Simone _was_ a human.) There was nothing I could do but hope that it wasn't the case.

Maybe there was something specific about me. Was it because I was actually staying with Josef? No, wait a minute…the guy that had been in here earlier said something about Mick. What was it? I thought for a minute, wracking my brain. Oh, yeah, he'd said: "You're not St. John's woman." I couldn't recall whether he'd been surprised or not. How had he been sure, though? For all anyone on the outside knew, me and Mick had hit the sheets the night I stayed over at his apartment. Geez, had that only been the night before last? It seemed like a year ago. Either way, all I knew was that Mick was the only vampire he mentioned.

Speaking of Mick, where was he? I just had to remember. I know people with head injuries have trouble remembering the short term stuff, but I had to force my brain to remember. I was going crazy not knowing. I paced around my cage, small pieces of memory adding themselves to what I'd already put together.

&

"Come on, move over," Mick instructed me. Normally, I might have given him a hard time, just for fun. Josef's Porsche was a magnificent machine, and I had the urge to put the pedal to the metal and see what it could do. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. Number 1, Josef would probably have my head, and number 2, I didn't want Mick out in the direct sun a second longer than he had to be.

"See? That wasn't so bad," I pointed out as I scooted over, settling myself in the passenger seat. "Would you ever let me drive the Benz?"

Backing up the car, Mick shot me a quick glance. "Well, uh, hmmm. How's your driving?"

"Look, the fact the driver's Ed instructor had a heart attack my sophomore year wasn't my fault," I told him. Mick wasn't just glancing; his eyes were glued to me, completely incredulous. "Anyone with a bad heart shouldn't be teaching teenagers how to drive, and the gas pedal and the breaks are awfully close together. No one died, yeesh. What a lightweight…Mick, watch out!" I cried when he almost backed into Josef's gazebo.

"Crap!" Mick slammed on the breaks, and he corrected our course.

I held up my hands protectively when Mick shot me a look. "Joking! Just joking! The instructor's fine, I came through with flying colors."

"You're going to give _me_ a heart attack," he grumbled. "I'm sure Josef would have thought it was a riot if I wrecked his expensive eye-sore."

"What's up with that? I mean, the guy obviously has good taste in most areas." I gestured towards the gardens, which were exploding with vibrant color. Okay, it was a little too manicured for my taste, but it was beautiful, in a symmetric sort of way.

"Oh, no you don't," he announced as soon as we eased onto the road. "Nice try Miss Hayes, but you're not changing the subject. You oughta be ashamed of that joke."

"I've told worse."

"And why isn't that reassuring?" he mused sarcastically.

"You think you'd have a higher threshold for that kind of thing since you hang out with Captain Obnoxious." Mick made an irritated sound in the back of his throat, but not a growl or snarl that I've read vampires make. Then again, he wouldn't tip his hand that easy. "Yeah, I know you asked me to can the terms of endearment, but today, don't you think I'm entitled?"

Mick didn't comment one way or the other. He concentrated on his driving, his eyes shifting up to the rearview mirror every 5 to ten seconds. He seemed relaxed, but I sensed he was anything but. It was hard to feel paranoid with Mick watching our back. Still, I should have known better than to let my guard down. I leaned back in the seat, mentally going over the testimony preparation I'd done with DA Lindsay earlier.

"I wonder if the judge is mad that the trial got pushed back," I wondered aloud. "Today's Tuesday, and it was supposed to be yesterday."

"Yeah? Well, I think that's what you might call a set of extenuating circumstances." Mick's voice was absent. "Josh seems like a pro in the courtroom, I'm sure it went over okay."

Mick's voice was carefully neutral when he talked about Beth's boyfriend, and I couldn't help but wonder how long this tense love triangle thing had been going on. "So how long have you known Beth?"

"Uh, over a month." Why did he look almost embarrassed? What did he have to feel embarrassed about?

"Okay. Where'd you guys meet?" Maybe I shouldn't have been pushing this since him and Beth were residents of angst city, but curiosity is a powerful thing.

"Crime scene. Murder victim." Did he sound defensive because that's just weird or because he secretly bit her in a seedy motel?

"Nothing like a dead body to get the social skills rolling, huh?" My bid at humor didn't even merit a response. _Geez, lighten up, Mick_, I thought, but figured I'd be pushing my luck to say so out loud. We fell into an uncomfortable silence that kind of reminded me of the night we drove back with Beth from the motel to the diner, but not as bad. All I could say was that Beth had a lot of power over him for someone that's just been in his life a month. Then again, I knew better than anyone that emotions don't run on a time table.

I'm not sure exactly how much time went by before we made it to the courthouse. Mick drove past the main entrance, parking a block or so away. I didn't ask, but I figured that was to throw off Fayed's boys, that they might not be expecting that. Paranoia and life-threatening danger were almost starting to get normal. That was scarier than anything.

Mick opened my door, on alert, I could tell. I shut my car door. "Look, I don't know if-" I started to say. Honestly, I can't remember what my train of thought originally was now, so it couldn't have been too important.

"Shh," he told me sharply, holding his hand up in an abrupt gesture. I fell quiet, feeling my eyes get as wide as saucers. I concentrated as hard as I could, but my ears didn't pick up on anything. Had he heard something or was he just being cautious?

The next thing I knew, he was opening the passenger door back up, maneuvering me back inside. "Lock all the doors, and sit tight," he was telling me. "I'll be right back."

"What? Huh? Why?" He was leaving me? I thought the idea was to stick by my side like cheese on an 80's hit. "What's the big idea?"

"Listen!" His voice was calm, but deadly urgent. He pointed across the street to a neglected looking house. It would have been nice, with a little repair and a basic paint job. Oh, and the yard needed a major overhaul too. "There's a little girl in there, and she needs help."

"Wow. And you're physic too?" I countered incredulously, narrowing my eyes doubtfully. Was this some vampire thing or did he really have ESP?

"Just trust me!" His voice rose an octave, he was losing his cool. "Just wait here, okay? The last thing you need-"

"Okay, okay, if this kid's in trouble, you better check it out," I cut in. He wasn't kidding around, I could tell. Mick wouldn't just take off on me if it wasn't something big. So as he sprinted across the street, I locked all the doors, and was watching the fixer-upper like a hawk. The last thing I remember was the sound of glass shattering.

&

The metal door of my prison slid open, and the guy I talked to earlier strolled in. He was carrying a tray full of food. _Probably drugged, _I thought, feeling my nose scrunch in disgust. "No thanks," I snapped.

"I'm afraid we'll have to insist you eat, Leni," the jerk said, sounding all pleasant like I was the houseguest not the hostage.

"How do I know it's not laced with something?" I demanded, my hands on my hips. I probably shouldn't have been mouthing off, but so far, so good.

"You don't. But we have ways of ensuring your cooperation." Again with the amiable tone. It made me want to hurl. Hey, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea, if I could aim for the guy's suit. His gaze lingered on my stomach. "We wouldn't want any accidents, now would we?"

I couldn't handle going down that road, so I changed topics fast. Besides, I needed to know. "Where's Mick?"

"How should I know?" He seemed genuinely disinterested, something oddly comforting. "Scrambling around somewhere like a chicken with its head cut off, I imagine. He's probably launching into a monologue of woe and self-loathing because he couldn't protect you. Pity that."

"And I'm here because of my good looks and charm?" What was the motive? I still didn't get it. It had to be something specific, but that's all I could figure. "Do you think Josef's gonna pay some sort of ransom? I don't know what you've been smoking, but-"

"This has nothing to do with Kostan, although I'm sure his young friend will drag him into the muck." What did that mean? Were they expecting Mick to come save me? He didn't seem too worried about that. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

"So this is about Mick? Some kind of a trap?" I hated how my voice was shaking, I hated letting these creeps get to me, but I was only human. "Look, we've only been pals for a few days, he's not going to risk his ass and Josef's for me." I was lying, but what else did I have to work with but a bluff? I didn't get an answer so kept going. "You used some kid as a decoy-"

"Yes, we did. That's called killing two birds with one stone." I wanted to slap the smug look off the bastard's face, but even I knew that was dumb, dumb, dumb.

"Goodie for you," I spat. "How does that work?"

"The little monster was acquired by an associate of mine for recreational purposes." I really did feel nauseous as the implications sank in. He could tell and grinned maliciously. "Since he was finished enjoying himself, he volunteered his pet as bait. St. John has a soft spot for children, doesn't he?"

"You're royally fucked up, you know that, don't you?" Thoughts of my biological father snuck up on me, compounding the misery. "Did Mick save…"

"Oh, don't worry. Our hero fought his way through to save the brat. We had to detain him long enough to get our hands on you." He set down the tray and advanced on me. "Too bad _you're_ not here for recreational purposes, but orders are orders."

The way he looked at me felt dirty, and I wanted a shower. I wrapped my arms protectively over my middle again. "Orders, huh?"

"You're not to be taken against your will." Not that I was complaining, but I was majorly confused. Whoever had me kidnapped wasn't against pedophilia, but I was off limits? Why? What was going on? "I'd be a very useful ally, Leni," he was telling me, interrupting my flow of thoughts. "Generosity can go both ways."

"If you think for one minute-"

He cut me off. "Don't make any hasty decisions. I wouldn't burn any bridges if I were you. I'm your only friend here."

"'Friend huh? That's rich." I rolled my eyes. "I hate to see your idea of an enemy. How did you know?"

"Know what, my sweet?"

"Well, _pumpkin_, how did you know Mick was going to park there? Were you following us? And still, you'd have to have some idea to get the kid there before us…" Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was encourage conversation, but my curiosity was killing me.

"We had a plant inside Kostan's house." Geez, was nothing safe! First there was a spy in the DA's office, and now this. "He prides himself on his inner sanctuary being impenetrable, but everyone has their price, Leni. Last night, after their poker game, St. John confided every detail to his old friend. Our informant was very useful."

Oh, this just kept getting better and better…


	19. Easter Bunny

_If I ever get out of this, I'll never take a clock for granted again, I swear._ That thought probably ran through my head at least thirty times. It might be considered an off the wall thought, but if you've ever been kidnapped, and you have no idea why, who's behind it, if you'll ever see the light of day again, and to top it all off you don't even know how long you've been there, you'd know what I mean. It could be thirty minutes since anyone checked in; it could be hours…your mind starts really playing tricks on you. And did I mention the boredom? I think it's torture unto itself…not that I was bitching exactly. Okay, so I was, but I was willing to acknowledge it could have been worse. I kept whispering to my baby, trying to tell my kid that mommy had it under control. Geez, I hadn't even given birth yet and I was already lying to my kid. I was off to a fantastic start, huh?

The tray of grub they'd given me was empty. In the end, I'd done as I was told. Trust me, I debated that one until the food was cold, but the implied threat to my baby if I didn't eat it finally forced me to cave. I ate gingerly at first, concentrating hard on the taste, but it seemed fine. Oh, I know, some drugs don't have a taste, so it wasn't all that reassuring, but afterwards, I felt fine. There were no blackouts or anything like that. The funny thing was, it was all food Doctor Myers recommended at my check-up, and I even washed it down with milk.

Or maybe it wasn't so weird. Doctor Myer's was in on this whole thing, right? She'd probably told them. But why would they care if the baby was healthy or not? Why would _she_ care? If she could conspire with kidnappers and perverts I doubt her Hippocratic Oath meant a whole lot. "Julia Myers, what's your damage?" I muttered. Didn't she make enough cash working the medical angle? What, did she have a gambling or drug problem? I'd thought maybe she was a vampire…I mean, Mick said he'd known her for years. Mick would never mean to lead me wrong; she must have fooled him too. But if she had an addiction that sucked up a lot of money, wouldn't Mick have known about it? You know, heard it through the grapevine.

And why did the name Julia come off so familiar? On the edge of my subconscious, I could have sworn hearing someone refer to this Julia who was a doc. I don't remember Mick mentioning her by her first name, but I was sure it'd come up before. But where? The harder I thought about it, the more I could swear it'd been while I was with Jack. I focused hard, calling the conversation up in my mind.

_We'd been at his house in Victorville, relaxing in bed after getting frisky. I kissed him on the neck, then saw a tiny scar, two tiny dots, not too far from the jugular. "What's that?"_

"_Uh…" he'd muttered. As much as I loved Jack, he wasn't much of a conversationalist, and after getting some? Forget it. Then he stiffened under me like I'd told him the IRS was knocking at his door. He rolled out from under me, fishing around on the end table, finally grabbing a pack of cigarettes. "A scar."_

"_You don't say." I rolled my eyes. "Where'd you get it, huh?"_

"_Uh, you know…my old man…"_

_Now it made sense why he'd gotten all weird on me. The asshole had given Jack plenty of scars all right, most of them you couldn't see. I tried lightening the mood, whacking him playfully on the shoulder. "Hey, go over by the window if you're gonna suck that stuff down. I'm not getting lung cancer 'cause you got bad habits."_

_Relieved I was willing to let it drop, he flashed me a goofy grin, getting up, going across the room to the slightly opened window, naked as a jaybird, to get his fix. He wasn't exactly modest, and I didn't mind looking at the view. He had a nice set of buns on him. I lounged back against the pillows, the sheet around my waist. What can I say? Jack was my boyfriend, and it wasn't anything he hadn't seen a hundred times. Besides, it was like 100 degrees since his stupid AC was broke down again._

"_Lot of money right down the drain for those things." His smoking was one of those pet peeves, you know? Definitely not a deal breaker, just one of those things your boyfriend/husband does that get's on your nerves. We used to go around and around about it, but it wasn't anything serious. Almost like a routine after a while._

"_You know the boss man pays good. I can afford my vices." I wrinkled my nose. The last person I wanted to talk about while sweaty and naked was Amir Fayed._

"_Sure, he's a real peach."_

"_Don't start," Jack told me, taking a long drag on the cigarette. "I know you ain't his number one fan."_

"_Gee, what gave it away?" I retorted, not quite able to keep my mouth shut._

"_I said don't start." The bite in Jack's voice stung a little, but I just stared at him, defiant. He crushed the cigarette in an ashtray, and went back to the bed. He sat down by me, sighing as he stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, beautiful. Didn't mean to bite your head off."_

"_Ah, that's nothing. You should hear my ma, she could give lessons." I winked, glad that blew over quick. He leaned down to kiss me, but I put a hand over his mouth. "Oh, no way. I'm not sticking my tongue in an ashtray. Go brush your teeth or something."_

"_Nag." But he grinned, briefly touching my face before getting up. That was Jack. He wasn't much for sweet talk, but he had this way of letting me know I was something special to him. He lightly slapped my ass when he left the bed, going into the bathroom to gurgle with some mouthwash. _

"_Pig," I countered affectionately. Yeah, yeah, we wouldn't win any awards for being the most romantic couple of the year, but what we had together worked. It was just then that his cell rang, and since he had his mouth full, I reflexively grabbed it. Julia, the ID said. "Hey, should I let this ring or do you want me to get it? It's Julia," I yelled in the direction of the bathroom._

"_Uh, just let it ring." So I put his cell back on the table, and after a while, it went silent. Jack came back into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed next to me. I snuggled into his side, feeling drowsy. _

"_Who's Julia, anyway?" I muttered, letting my eyes close. I could definitely go for a nap. _

"_A friend." He started rubbing my back, which was heaven. I arched into his touch. I felt his lips on my mine, light and sweet. After the kiss was over, I settled my head on his shoulder, using him as a pillow._

"_Should I be jealous?" I teased sleepily. _

"_Nah. She don't hold a candle to you, beautiful."_

"_Good answer. How come you never mentioned her?" Jack didn't have a lot in the way of friends, he was kind of the loner type, but I thought I'd met the few he did have._

"_We're really not that tight anymore. She's a big time doctor, and she's kind of chained to the hospital. Why not? She makes enough doing it." He was real off-hand, so I didn't give it too much more thought._

"_Uh-huh," I said over a yawn. That was about the last thing I remember before I drifted off, Jack never letting up on the backrub until I was out like a light. _

Thinking this over, I chewed on my lip absently. I'd pretty much forgotten about the whole thing, as it didn't stand out as too important at the time. And who knows? Maybe it wasn't, maybe it was a big fat coincidence. I mean the idea that there were two different doctors by the name of Julia in the city of LA wasn't out of the question. But what about that scar on Jack's neck? It reminded me a lot of the injury that Beth got while feeding Mick. Would Jack lie to me? Beth was lying to Josh about her set of puncture wounds, wasn't she? And if Jack thought that the truth might put me in danger, you'd better believe he'd lie about it.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Hayes," I muttered under my breath. For one thing, I wasn't even sure my doctor Myers was a vampire. I suspected, but had nothing concrete to base that on. For another, Jack's dad was a real sadist, it wasn't out of the realm of imagination that scar was just a product of child abuse, not from a set of fangs. And even if, and I do mean _if_ Jack knew a vampiric doctor Myers, what did that mean? There might be no connection. It could be as simple as she was bribed, and it was nothing personal.

If she was in charge of my diet, would she come and check on me? Maybe I could get through to her. Maybe she was just in a bad spot, and was desperate for cash. And if I couldn't appeal to her better nature? Well, then I'd be no worse off than I was now.

I started pacing; remembering the sleaze ball's comments from earlier. He seemed to want me big time, which made me want to puke. Or maybe that was just morning sickness, I wasn't sure. He wouldn't rape me though, on account of orders. It all led back to the same question: Who was pulling the strings? Maybe it was about Mick, maybe not. At least I knew it wasn't about Josef, even though he was stuck in the middle of it due to some spy lurking through his hallowed halls.

Something like a muffled yell had my attention going towards the locked door to my prison. "What the…" I muttered, going closer. The door shook a little, and I heard a thud. From the sound of it, someone was in definite pain. What? Were my guards getting rowdy? And why bother with guards? What'd they think I had dynamite up my bra and I was gonna blast my way out? There was silence, then a faint beeping sound, as the door flew open.

"Josef?" I had to blink three times to assure myself he was real. I noticed that two prone bodies were behind him. Dead or just knocked out, I couldn't help but wonder.

"The one and only," he announced, spreading his arms dramatically. _Now there's a guy with a healthy self-esteem, _I thought dryly. "Hmm. You don't wear the kidnapped look well," he observed, sounding for all the world like a fashion critic. "It's a good thing Simone didn't want the suit back."

I decided to ignore his pointless commentary. "Where's Mick?"

"Nice to feel appreciated," he remarked dryly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Running a multi-billion dollar cooperation get's boring, and I get the urge to risk my physical well being every now and then. It was really nothing."

He had a point, even if he was a smartass. "Look, I'm grateful, okay? It's just-"

"Oh, yeah I'm picking that up," he retorted sarcastically.

Deciding to turn the tables on him, I advanced on him, smiling sweetly. "Thank you, Josef. I owe you big." I kissed him on the cheek, hugging him, thinking that I'd kill him with kindness.

It didn't exactly go the way I'd planned. Instead of getting wierded out, he looped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his body. My eyes widened as every inch of our bodies from the knees to the neck came into personal contact. I wish I could say my skin crawled, that I wanted to puke, but I'd be a liar. I actually started to tingle a little. Feeling like a shank, I shoved at him. He laughed a little, but I'll give him credit, he let go without a fight. And I've got the feeling he didn't have to budge if he didn't want to, I don't think I could've forced him.

"That's to teach you not to play games. And yes, you do," he said amiably.

"Huh?"

"Owe me," he qualified smugly. "I'll be sure to collect."

"You're a real prince," I snipped, starting to hate his guts all over again.

"Leni, Leni," he said in obnoxiously patient voice. "I never engage in charity unless it's for image or a tax write-off. You offer neither benefit. The fact you're Mick's new pal doesn't give you a blank check. You're already living in my house as a favor to _him_. I risked my ass five minutes ago, got my hands dirty. You used up your Mick card, I'm afraid."

"Fine." I threw up my hands. "What do you want?"

"Not your body if that's what you're worried about." He gave me a look that was nothing if not unimpressed. "You're more than adequate…no question, but nothing special."

"Gee thanks." Why did his dismissal bug me? The last thing I wanted was Josef Kostan sniffing at me, especially since I owed him and all. The principle, I guessed. "Can we talk about my payment plan later? I don't think we should stand around and chat all day."

"Of course not," Josef agreed. "As for Mick, he's in another section of this little fortress…dealing with some…security issues. He would've loved to be the one to make the grand entrance, but circumstances made it impossible." He led me out into a long corridor. I looked down at the bodies, seeing their throats were slit. "Jesus. Did you-"

"Well, it wasn't the Easter Bunny," he drawled.

I wanted to feel horror, but I couldn't. Was I becoming a terrible person? "Did you have to kill them?"

"Well, considering they were actively trying to kill me, I made the easy choice, and beat them to it. You know, it wasn't easy for Logan to hack into their security mainframe-"

"Who's Logan?" I asked. Josef had me behind him with his back to the wall so he could see any possible threat from all angles. For all his big talk, he sure was acting sincerely protective.

"Technical genius, Mick's go-to when he get's into a tight spot. According to Mick, he never leaves his basement, but we all have our quirks." There was a note of amused disdain coating his words, but I've rarely heard Josef sound glowing when he talked about anyone. "I have my own lackeys of course, but for hacking into a system this sophisticated, Logan is the best."

"Then why isn't he on your payroll?" Actually, that wasn't a crack, I was honestly curious.

"Do you think I'd have such an inflexible employee?" Josef shook his head at what he obviously chalked up to my ultimate ignorance. Well, exuse the hell out of me. "Anyone who works for me goes where I say when I say so. Logan doesn't have the right attitude."

"The nerve." Okay, now that was a crack. I felt a stab of disappointment when Josef just ignored me. I decided I was being about 3rd grade, and needed to knock it off. "How did you find me?"

"Tracking devise on the Porsche. The idiots stole the car with you in it."

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "How come there was a tracking devise on the Porsche?"

"It's a standard practice of mine," he said like it was all normal or something. "I have one on all my cars. It was actually anti-climatic finding you so easy."

"Sorry to disappoint you. Doctor Myers was working with my kidnappers," I told him.

"They volunteered that information?" Josef sounded incredulous. "Unbelievable. You never spill your secrets to the hostage, even if you're assuming they won't make it out alive. As long as they're alive, their knowledge is a liability."

"It's creeps me out that you sound so familiar." I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the back of his head.

"Just seems like common sense to me." He tossed an innocent look over his shoulder. "Suggesting otherwise?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just find Mick."

"I'm working on it. This place is decent sized. What else did they tell you?"

Oh, I was going to enjoy this one. "Well, apparently, there's a spy in your Fort Knox." I could literally see the anger spread through his body as his posture stiffened, and heard him suck in his breath harshly. "Had no idea, huh?"

"Did they happen to say who while they were getting chatty?" His voice was like ice, and it even made me a little uneasy. This wasn't just anger, this was rage. Still, overall, I was enjoying it, since I wasn't the target.

"He didn't get _that_ chatty. But the doc was definitely in on it, so maybe she knows. You know her? I know Mick does, but obviously not as well as he thought." Josef didn't answer me. "Josef, I said-"

"Quiet," he barked, and I automatically obeyed. He wasn't goofing around, I could tell. He all but smashed me up against the wall.

"Oxygen, Josef, I kind of need it," I hissed.

"Would you kindly shut up?" All the same, he let up enough so I wouldn't be smothered to death. He was focusing intensely on something, but damned if I could figure it out.

To me, it was like a blur attacked him. One second he was pressing up in front of me, the next he was part of the frenzied movement. My brain was having trouble processing what I was seeing. Well, they were moving so fast, I really couldn't see, it was more about what I heard. There was snarling and roaring like two wolves or maybe lions. Something dangerous and animal, anyway. Blood smeared on the floor, and I didn't know what to do. It's not like I could get involved, even if I wasn't pregnant. Should I run and find Mick? But how? I didn't even know where I was.

A loud crunching sound had me jumping, and the turbo speed came to a sudden stop. Josef was on top of Doctor Myers, who had her neck twisted at a sharp angle, just like the assassin back at the crummy motel. Only she was twitching, her eyes were blinking. Josef plunged a stake into her chest, his eyes icy blue…with bloody fangs extended. It really wasn't his best look, but not as creepy as it probably should have been. After he was done introducing the stake to her, over where her heart was, his eyes were on me, studying…considering me.


	20. Angel? Buffy?

"You're not surprised." Deftly, he pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped around his mouth with the same ease he'd use cleaning up after a slightly messy meal. Then again, since he _was_ a vampire, blood _was_ his food. His eyes never left mine. "And you're not afraid, are you?"

"Maybe I should be, you being a vampire and all," I admitted. "Still, I guess I'm not. What now?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? You know what I am." He stared down at Doctor Myers. "You know what _she_ is. And you knew before this very minute."

Why deny it? I had a feeling that lying to Josef would be the dumbest move I could make. "I knew. Not about you, exactly. I mean, sure I suspected-"

"Why?"

"Uh, could you put the 'grrr' face away? It's a little…unnerving. Not hideous or anything," I added as an afterthought.

"You're really too kind." But he did like I asked.

"Okay, okay. It's just weird, I guess." I took a breath, letting my mind put everything in order. "Um, it was just a gut feeling because you're friends with Mick, and he's one. I know that for a solid fact."

"Please don't tell me that he told you." The look on his face currently was almost as unnerving as what a Buffy fan would call his 'game face.'

"Don't be crazy," I was quick to answer. I came clean, telling him the story about listening in at the motel, and how I found out. "Mick doesn't know that I know."

"You didn't confront him?" Josef quirked an eyebrow, looking genuinely puzzled about that. "No fits of hysteria?"

"It was the last thing he needed, okay? He…he was trying not to show it, but feeding off Beth really messed with his mind." Josef had a 'sounds about right' look on his face. "Besides, I didn't want to scare him off. You might think it's a big joke, but I don't have a lot in my life right now. My family's a big zero, the man I loved was shot in the head. What I've got is this baby and Mick's friendship."

"It's a girl, you know." I looked down at my stomach, surprised by the comment. "Trust me, it's a girl."

"I'm gonna have a baby girl?"

"Thus established. It's a vampire thing." He'd officially lost interest in the topic. He looked down at the doctor, scooped her up. "When you chatted it up with Beth's boy wonder, did you say anything about Mick?"

"No!" I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'd never-"

He winced. Good. "I believe you, no need to shriek."

"I was so _not_ shrieking. It's called raising your voice, hello!" He gestured for me to follow him, and I did. It wasn't like I wanted to stick around. I looked at the doctor, hanging limply in Josef's arms. "Is she dead? She looks dead."

"Don't worry about it," he told me brusquely. "In fact, the fewer questions you ask, the better off you'll be."

"Well, here's one anyway," I countered stubbornly. "Are you going to tell Mick I know about vampires?"

"No, I don't think so," he answered thoughtfully.

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask suspiciously. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful, but I didn't know why Josef would keep his best friend in the dark to help someone out he barely tolerated.

"Because you're right. Mick doesn't need the added stress. He'll go into his usual 'I'm a monster, woe is me' routine. I've known him for fifty plus years, and I'll tell you up front, it get's old. Then again, I've never gone for re-runs. Why give him an extra reason?" We took a right, heading up a flight of stairs. "And since you kept your mouth shut, you've earned the right to work the issue out with Mick in your own way, at your own pace. Hell, if you want to keep up the game, be my guest. Personally, I'd get tired of it, but you seem okay with it. Tell me, were you looking for vampire secrets when you were snooping?"

I threw my hands up. "Are you ever gonna let that drop? Okay, fine, you really wanna know? I was just looking. Mick was acting all weird, like there was something to hide, and I was just curious. Happy now?"

"And to think he wanted to be an actor." A sardonic little smile curled Josef's lips.

"You trust me to keep your secret?" I had no intention of taking an ad out in the paper, but Josef didn't seem like the trusting type.

"Let's not get carried away. It's more like a calculated risk. That doesn't mean I won't be watching you like a hawk." He cast a shrewd, cold look over his shoulder. "You seem like a bright girl, I don't think I need to spell out what you stand to lose if you make yourself a liability."

"You're threatening my baby?" I spat, totally disgusted.

"Let's put it this way." His face melted into an amiable, almost harmless looking mask, but it was all phony. He was about as harmless as a cobra. "You keep your mouth shut like you've been doing, and we won't have to find out, now will we?"

"You're really too kind," I spat, using his own words at him. "Where are we?"

"Now that's a question I can appreciate. We're in an underground bunker, not too far outside LA. The property belongs to her." He jostled Doctor Myer in his arms. Her eyes moved towards me, and just like that, I let loose a scream.

"Christ!" Josef hissed. I mean, a real hiss sound, like out of a cat or something, only bigger. Now that _was_ creepy. "Do you have any idea how sensitive my ears are?"

"Her friggin' eyes moved!" I cried, starting to back away.

"There's no need to get hysterical." Holding her easily in one hard, he grabbed me with his free hand. "She's not dead, merely paralyzed."

"Gee, ya think you could have mentioned that earlier?" I glared at him as he let go. Men, why do they have to do it the hard way all the time? "But they said she was just helping, like she worked for _them_."

"Well, maybe, maybe not." Josef seemed to be analyzing the situation. "Maybe she volunteered her property for the good of some cause, or maybe she was the puppeteer the whole time, pulling the strings. You think they would have been truthful about the pecking order to a hostage? Really, Miss Hayes, you didn't seem naïve."

"Oh, stuff it," I grumbled.

He looked down at the doctor, and smiled, a smile that was downright freaky, it was so cold. "We'll have plenty of time to get your version, won't we, my dear Julia?" I could have sworn her eyes widened, probably in fear.

"She was approving my diet," I volunteered. I was just glad he wasn't after me. "Ask her if she knew Jack Toland."

"The guy Fayed killed?" Obviously, Mick hadn't named him as the father of my baby. He might not have even told Josef anything at all. I mean, if Josef could tell I was having a girl, figuring out a pregnancy was probably a duh. I nodded, not sure I wanted to open this can of worms, but feeling like I had to, anyway. Josef inhaled deeply, gesturing with a jerk of his head to the right. "Mick's coming this way; he'll be in earshot soon. Go on that way. Tell him I had something to take care of. Oh, and I wouldn't mention the good doctor's condition if I were you."

"Because then he'll know I know?"

"Smart _and_ pretty," he mused with mock awe. I just flipped him the bird. As weird as that might be, I still wasn't scared of him. Actually, unless I was totally off the mark, I think by keeping a joint secret, we'd called some kind of truce. Before I could figure it out for sure, he was gone, and I lightly jogged in the direction he'd told me. If Josef could smell Mick, then Mick could probably smell me.

"Mick!" I cried when he came around the corner, launching myself into his arms. He didn't even wobble, holding me tight. It was a little too snug for comfort, but since I could technically breathe, it was all good. "Man, I'm glad to see you."

"Likewise." He kissed my head, eased me back, but didn't let go. "Leni, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"What's a little kidnapping?" I joked. I didn't add: _I mean, when you got vampires and hit men, it's pretty normal, actually, _but I really wanted to. "Is the kid okay? The one that was in the house?"

"Physically, yeah." Mick swallowed hard, and I felt his hands flex against my back. "Mentally, the poor thing's a wreck. The parents are grateful, though, and with help…you never know."

"I guess not." I could see that Mick was gonna have a tough time knowing that he couldn't save the kid completely. I had a feeling he felt things keener than most of us do, and it sticks with him. How old was he? How long had he been lugging around all the emotional baggage? Josef said he'd known him for fifty years, but had they met when Mick was still a human? What if Mick had already been a vampire for fifty years before that? "Josef said you found me because he had tracking devise thingy on his car."

"Long live paranoia." Mick flashed a wry smile, and disentangled himself, but kept an arm around my shoulder. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Well, um, can't really help you there. He had to go take care of something. He found Doctor Myers. I think they're having a heart-to heart." Mick raised an eyebrow. Man, he must have had some great muscles in his brow, 'cause he sure could raise that sucker high.

"I'm sure he can persuade her to give us some information," Mick said lamely. Did he really think I bought the idea that Josef was just talking to her? I didn't correct him, but my life was becoming one big unspoken thing.

"He said this is her property." I went on to explain how I already knew the doc played a part in all this, about the diet, and how she might have known Jack.

"Could be a coincidence. Maybe not." Mick sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. "I'm the one that told you to trust Doctor Myers; I'm the one who led you into a trap. Some protector I turned out to be. I'm the guy you want be the godfather of your baby?"

I lightly bumped him with my hip, chuckling at him. "Oh, give it a rest, drama queen. It's not like you knew, you couldn't have."

"I should have-"

"Like, please. Are you responsible for rising gas prices and the war in Iraq too?" I was hoping to tease a smile out of him, but he didn't budge.

"Don't bother, Leni," Josef said from the shadows. "Once he's in that mode, you've got to let him brood it out of his system."

"Yeah, I'm picking that up. How long does it take?"

"I think he's been watching too much _Buffy_ the early years. If we're not careful, he'll start emulating Angel." He smirked, and I gave an exaggerated shudder.

"He doesn't wear enough air gel," I announced.

"You're not a fan of Angel?"

"The show or the character?" I couldn't help but notice Mick staring at us both like we'd grown a third head.

Josef must have noticed it to, but ignored Mick's incredulous stare. "Either."

"The show? Never got into it. And to me, Buffy's golden years were over after season three. The character? Well, he's totally hot," I admitted. "But that whole 'I'm cursed with a soul, I feel so guilty, I don't deserve you, Buffy,' get's real old. Mick, what are you doing?" I noticed he had his head cocked, like he was listening for something.

"Waiting for the _Twilight Zone _theme music," he explained, exasperated. "I know I wanted you two to get along, but this is just downright creepy."

"Be careful what you wish for," Josef drawled, winking at me. Well, at least we had one thing in common; we got a kick out of giving Mick a hard time. Maybe I'd pass on the 'broken bed' bit to Josef, depending on how long this truce lasted. "Well, kids, as fun as all this is, I'd say we'd better get moving before we get extra company."

"The reason why we got in so neatly is because security personnel was switching shifts," Mick informed me since I must've looked as confused as I felt. They seemed to know where we were going, and in no time, we were hitting the exit.

"Fresh air!" I exclaimed, lifting my arms high, twirling in sheer joy. "Isn't it great?"

"Just think, it'll be even better when we're not in enemy territory." For once, Josef didn't sound snide, it was like you could take the comment at face value. Oh, well, I guess even he can't be sarcastic 24/7. He turned to Mick. "Okay, buddy, you take the damsel in distress to your car. I'll be two minutes behind you."

Mick nodded. "We'll meet up at your place?"

"Bad idea. Leni told me according to her gracious hosts, there's a spy in my inner sanctum." He didn't raise his voice, but you could tell the guy was pissed. "I have a pretty good idea as to who, and Julia's account backs it up."

"She, uh, told you?" Mick glanced at me out the corner of his eye, and the unspoken thing was: _Hey, not in front of the human._

"Well, she doesn't even know the plant by name, but her description was revealing enough. We still have a lot of ground to cover. Take Leni back to your place."

"I feel like I'm a tennis ball," I complained. "First I'm with Mick, then I get shipped off to your place. Now I'm back with Mick."

"Beats the alternative," Josef clipped out. "What, you'd prefer Fayed's brand of hospitality?"

Point taken. "Okay, sorry. I don't mean to bitch, it's just been-"

"Rough?" Josef filled in the blank for me. I nodded. "True, but it'll get a whole lot rougher if you don't get moving."

"Let's go." Mick gently nudged me. When I turned back, Josef had gone poof. I was sort of used to it. I couldn't see Mick's car, I guess it was parked a ways off. We reached iron gates, and Mick pulled out his cell phone, hitting a number on his cell's list. "Logan? Get the gates open."

"Well, since you asked so nice…" I could barely hear the miffed answer.

"Look, since you cleaned out my wallet, just do it," Mick shot back, snapping his cell phone shut.

"You know, Batman always has some gadget to deal with this stuff," I teased. "You should get with the program if you're going to be a hero."

"Batman also has like a billion bucks to blow." He did have a point there, I had to give him that. Before we could really get into a debate, the gates slid open.

"That was fast," I commented as we hustled through the iron gates before they could close up on us again.

"Yeah, you get what you pay for," Mick acknowledged. It wasn't long before the Benz came into view. "Listen, Leni, I've been thinking about you asking me to be the baby's godfather, and while I'm flattered-"

"Oh, don't even go there," I interrupted. "First of all, it's my call, so deal with it. I'm the mom, remember? Second of all, I'm tired of you ragging on yourself. You're a good guy. Hell, you're practically an eagle scout."

He gently gripped my arm, whirling me around to face him. "You don't even know me. You're young, you think you know everything."

"Bullshit," I snapped. "Look, Mick, maybe you're right. I don't know what your damage is. Right now, I don't need to, okay? What I do know is that you've watched my back-"

"And behold my success, you got kidnapped." Mick guided me over to the car, closing my door for me when I was in with an annoyed snap.

"Not because you were lounging on the couch eating bon-bons." I took a deep breath so I wouldn't start yelling. I remembered Josef mentioning how sensitive his ears were. "You got me back, right? With Josef's help sure, but you got me back. All's well that ends well."

"Hardly," Mick scoffed. He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine. I put on my seatbelt and so did he.

"Whatever. I'm not gonna go around and around with you. My baby's got a godfather, so shut and deal."

Mick started to say something, stopped himself, and took off. I have a feeling he wanted to peel out, but didn't want to draw that much attention to us. "The trial's been moved up."

Caught off guard by the change in subjects, I just stared for about ten seconds. "'Cause of me? Is Josh mad? Is the judge-"

"Actually, no one knows you went missing. I didn't want there to be another circus with the authorities messing up your rescue." _Wow, someone's a little cynical_, I thought dryly, but I got his point. The cops didn't save me last time, Mick did. "Fayed had a minor heart attack, supposedly."

"You think it's a stalling tactic."

"He could have paid the doctors off," Mick commented. "The trial's on hold for at least a few days. Probably longer." We fell into silence, each of us caught up in our own thoughts. I wondered if Josef would have anything to tell me about Jack later. If it was bad, how was I going to handle it?

I hadn't even realized that I'd put my hand on my belly until I started reflexively rubbing it. Then I had my answer. I could handle it because I had my baby girl.


	21. Just a Stab at Humor

I'm just blown away by the amazing response from you guys lately. (It's never been shabby, don't get me wrong.) Several of you, and you know who you are, are faithful reviewers, but I seem to be drawing a bigger review pool lately. Keep it up, it's great to know my story is appreciated. All you fellow writers know what I'm talking about. It's a joy to bring Leni to further life, and I'm just glad people get as much of a kick out of her as I do.

This story will probably be winding down soon, somewhere between chapter 25-30. Don't worry, if you're all interested, Leni's saga will continue. This would also be the time to put input as to your wish list for part 2. Then again, there's other projects I could pursue, so let me know so I'm aware in advance, and can start hatching my schemes, which is why I'm letting you in on the plan ahead of time.

I hadn't planned on Beth making an 'appearance' but on a whim, threw her in this chapter, sort to speak. Please don't think I hate Beth, I actually like her, just not with Mick. I'd prefer her with Josef, or an OC. (I used to like her with Josh, but I think he deserves someone who's actually still into him.

Okay, without further ado, I give you what you came for, the actual story.

**Adventures With Mick St. John and Company**

"Hello?" I balanced Mick's cordless on my shoulder, making myself a sandwich with my free hand. After I got cleaned up from my ordeal a few days back, Mick had taken me grocery shopping, since I'd be staying with him a while. He blamed the previously empty fridge/panty on 'bachelor hang-ups.' I kept track of the total, since I plan on paying him back. I mean, it's not like he's gonna eat the food, right?

"Leni, it's Beth. You doing okay?" It sounded more like she was being polite than actively worried. Not surprising. I figured the boys hadn't filled in her in, since what would be the point? She was a reporter, not Wonder woman. Besides, as far as I knew, things were still kind of weird between Mick and her.

"Well, any day above ground's a bonus," I joked, thinking about the bunker.

"Don't say that," Beth admonished me, obviously thinking I was talking about a pine box and six feet under. "Mick won't let anything happen to you. Are you still staying at his place?"

"Yeah, he's a regular knight in shining armor." I licked some mustard off my thumb, going for the pickles. It wasn't a pregnant thing; I've always piled them on my sandwiches. "He's in the shower by the way."

"Really?" The lady sounded more than a little cynical. Did she think I had nothing better to do than cover for Mick? Okay, so maybe I didn't, but she didn't know that. "And if I called back in ten minutes is he going to be washing his car or walking the dog he doesn't have?"

I wanted to say: _And this is my problem how?_ I decided to take the high road, call it a generous impulse. "Look, Beth, you're talking to the wrong person. If Mick's ducking your calls, that's not on me."

"I never said it was!" Beth sighed. "Look, I'm pushy, I admit it. I don't mean to add on the stress."

"No sweat. Look, I'd be happy to leave you a message for you, but that's all I can do for you. Unless you want me to run up there and hand him the phone?" I heard Beth choke. "A joke, Beth, just a stab at humor," I hastily added.

"Ha, ha, hilarious," Beth grumbled. "A message will be fine. Tell him to call me back, that we need to talk."

"Will do." Oh, I bet they needed to talk. How exactly was that going to play? I doubt Hallmark made that kind of card after one friend bites another friend and sucks out the blood to stay alive. "How's your arm?"

"Oh, that, yeah. I'm just embarrassed. Not my finest moment." She chuckled nervously. "Josh is making a big deal about it. You'd think I'd cut the whole thing off."

"Aw, that's sweet." I felt a pang, remembering a time when I had someone to overreact over me. Actually, Jack was the only person to ever give a rat's ass, besides Mara. You know what I mean, adults. Beth probably always had a bunch of people and especially a lot of guys to care, so of course she took it for granted. "Guys get weird over that kind of stuff, you know?"

"Yeah. Well, I gotta run. Take care."

"I'll see what I can do. Bye." I pressed the button to shut the phone off, and put it back. I heard the shower shut off upstairs as I put the finishing touches on my masterpiece. I took a big bite. "Mmmm," I sighed, loving that satisfying crunch. A little mustard dripped onto my lips, and I licked it up with relish.

I didn't bother grabbing a chair and eating at the table. When I was growing up, I ate on the go. It's amazing that I didn't come down with food poisoning with the kind of stuff in our kitchen. I'm talking gross, but when you're hungry, whatcha gonna do, right?

"It's terribly refreshing to watch a woman actually eating real food." I glanced at Josef, reclining on the couch like he owned the place. Now why wasn't that surprising? But there was something different about him, something I couldn't put my finger on. "The women I know usually stick to salad and apples."

"Yummy." I took another mouthful, not about to let the audience ruin my small dose of bliss. But I was still watching him, trying to identify that tiny factor that was different about him. "Haven't heard from you in a couple of days." Don't worry, I'd swallowed first. I doubt he wanted to see a mustard/pickle/cheese/ ham/sandwich after it's been chewed.

"You missed me?"

"You could tell?" I shot back, smiling a little. He smiled back, but there was…almost an uneasy quality about him. No, that's not quite right. Tense, he was plain tense. Now, at the time, I didn't know Josef all that well, but if I had, I would have been in the know that something was up. But as I didn't, I just figured it was a business thing. If I had millions of bucks on the line all the time, I'd be a nervous wreck.

"Don't even start," Mick said from the foot of upstairs, buttoning up the cuffs on his button down shirt. "Don't you guys ever get tired of the back and forth?"

"No," we answered in unison. Totally not planned, but I bet it came off that way. Mick groaned. "And you say I have a low threshold for pain," Josef commented.

"Uh, understatement." Mick came down the stairs, settling in the chair across from the couch, fiddling with his cell phone.

"Not everyone is interested in suffering, Mick," Josef offered irreverently. Having finished my sandwich off, and tossing the paper towel away, I curled up on the couch next to Josef, resting my elbow on the back, propping my head up on my fist. "I'll never understand how an aversion to pain is construed as a bad thing."

"No one ever said-oh, forget it. Leni, was that the phone I heard in the shower?" Mick placed his foot on the opposite knee, relaxing.

"Yeah, Beth called." I noticed that he didn't look so relaxed anymore. I'm sure Josef was picking up on it, too.

"Oh." The single word, and the way he said it, summed it all up. Josef and I exchanged quick, 'uh-huh' looks. I doubt Mick noticed. He started to ask me something, then remembered Josef was sitting there with that knowing look on his face. "Uh, thanks. I'll give her a ring later. I talked to Simone last night, she'd said she'd drop by, check up on you."

The thought perked me up. Mick was a doll, but he wasn't exactly one for girl talk, you know? "Cool. So, what going on with the-"

Mick's cell beeping cut me off, a text message. He looked at the screen. "Crap," he muttered. "Leni, I'm sorry, but I gotta take go. I got a situation on my hands."

"Angry spouse?" I guessed.

"That falls under the pesky client/P.I. confidentiality clause." He got up, pausing to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Josef is gonna stay here and make sure you're okay."

"Oh, will I?" Josef lazily raised an eyebrow, shooting a mild look at Mick.

"Hmmm, let's see." Mick pretended to think about it. "Cramp your style, or let a volatile situation escalate to a life/death crisis. Tough call, but I think I'll go with option A."

"My, aren't I the fortunate one?"

"You know I'm still in the room, you two," I pointed out, waving one arm.

Mick smiled at me apologetically, then turned back to Josef. "What are friends for, right buddy?" Mick slapped him on the shoulder, and split, probably thinking he better move fast before Josef tried to weasel out of it.

Still, Josef managed to get in the last word. "You know, I'm starting to wonder. Lackeys are less hassle." Mick just shut the door behind him. It was a full thirty seconds before Josef spoke up again. "All right, he's out of earshot. Now I can say what I came to say. I've had quite a few interesting conversations with our favorite doctor."

"Is she still alive?" I was a little embarrassed that I was more curious than concerned. This whole experience was starting to work a number on me. What seriously, how many brushes with death can you go through without _something_ happening?

"Not your concern. However, Jack Toland is. He was your lover, wasn't he? The father of your baby?" I nodded, since there was no point in hiding it now. He took a hold of my shoulders, eyes boring into mine. "Listen, it's not good news. Believe what you want, but I don't always enjoy inflicting pain."

I took a breath, bracing myself. "Go ahead, Josef. Just do it fast."

"Jack Toland and Julia Myers were an item. According to her, right up until his death."

"She's lying," I argued, determined to keep my cool. "Look, I know Jack had a shitty job, and I didn't like it, but he was a good guy, you know? He loved me."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Josef agreed briskly. "But what's love got to do with it? Most of the time, when a men steps out, it has nothing to do with his partner. Love don't stop the blood flow south, and if he thinks he can get away with it, why not?"

"So that makes it okay?" I shook my head, holding up a hand. "Look, just because you wouldn't know love if it smacked you upside the head-"

A wistful smile manipulated his mouth. "You'd be surprised. 400 years is a long time not to be stupid at least once."

"Oh, so love's stupid? Wait, don't answer that, I don't care. Okay, so maybe Jack jumped her bones before we got together…did you say 400 years?" Talk about getting sidetracked, but it just hit me. How did he not get majorly bored? Life must be like one huge re-run to him at this point.

"So I did, and in that 400 years I've learned to read people, and perfect the art of torture. Oh, don't give me that horrified look," he chided as my face scrunched up. "You're deep in the game now, aren't you? Did you think I'd just ask nice? You're too smart for that, Leni. You're a survivor, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't turn this around on me." I crossed my arms, pulling free. "For the last time, I don't believe her."

"I do." Josef's voice was soft, and he looked almost sympathetic. "But if you need a dose of denial, I won't quibble. The point is, she was nuts about him."

"Maybe she couldn't handle it when he dumped her." I ignored the queasy feeling overtaking me. The bitch had to be lying, Jack wouldn't play me. "She had to get me back, so she-"

"She wanted the baby." He didn't even bother trying to soften it. _How did he deal with stockholders_, I wondered absently. "Jack's baby. Vampires are sterile, Leni. Some of us think of it as a bonus. Permanent birth control and all that, but some of us think of it as a minus."

"Vampires like Mick," I volunteered softly.

"Right. If anyone was born to play daddy…" he looked consideringly at my belly. "Anyway, Myers wanted a piece of Jack, literally, so took the contract from Amir Fayed to keep you from testifying. He wanted to rub you out, nice and simple, but she promised that you wouldn't be a problem."

"She couldn't kill me because of the baby. So were one of his boys in your house?" Even as I asked, my mind was going over my relationship with Jack. If there had been someone else for over a year, I'd know, right? And that scar had been old. Wouldn't there have been fresh bites? Unless, there was a way of healing them up so a person didn't look like a pin cushion.

"Wrong gender," Josef drawled. "And no, Julia called in an old friend, a certain Cynthia Davis."

Okay, I was drawing a blank. "Who?"

"An old…acquaintance, you might say. An old friend of mine took her under her wing, pulled a Pygmalion. See, Cynthia was a hooker, and Coraline made her a project, thought it'd be real funny to make her a mover and shaker in the vampire community. Cynthia and Coraline have been joined at the hip ever since, although Cynthia's more her lapdog than friend."

"Coraline?" I quirked an eyebrow. "Your friend? Mick knows her?"

For some reason, Josef thought that was friggin' hilarious, 'cause he sure had a good laugh. "You could say that, sure. Now, normally, I wouldn't make this complicated, I'd annihilate Cynthia, and be done in time for my nightly round of golf."

"But?" He was right; I was too deep in the game to get squeamish now. It was easier just to roll with the punches. Besides, I was focusing most of my energy on keeping images of Jack and the doctor screwing out my head. _Nope, Jack wouldn't. He wouldn't mess around on me, _I told myself. God complex or not, Josef didn't know everything.

"But she's got too much on me, and the crafty bitch would be a liability from the grave. She's too smart to not have evidence hidden away. And Coraline-" he cut himself off abruptly. He looked at me, looking almost worried. "Well, she was a good friend. On the other hand, letting it go would make me look like a chump. Since barbequing her is out of the question, it looks like I'm going to have to go through other channels."

"Was a good friend? Did she die-" I never got the chance to finish the question.

"The less you know about Coraline the better." Josef's voice was lazy, but he wasn't kidding around, I could tell. "In fact, don't mention Cynthia to Mick, and you sure as hell don't bring up Coraline."

I started to ask why, then changed my mind. "How about this, I'll keep my mouth shut if you consider what I owe you paid in full, tit for tat."

A twinkled entered his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Leni, I was right about you."

Right about what? "How so?"

"You're quite the survivor. I like a little operator in a woman. Hmmm. Seems like a fair deal, if you throw in a bonus." Uh-oh, why did I feel like I just made a deal with the devil's son?

I rolled my eyes, not about to act nervous and give him the satisfaction. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, o, mighty one. Let's have it."

Let me tell you, I wasn't anywhere near ready for what he threw at me next. "You throw in a kiss, and you've got yourself a deal."


	22. Trial, Part 1

**Author's Note**

Hi guys. Ugh, I know it's been such a long time since I've updated, and as I was writing this, I felt rusty. I've had to do some writing for school, but that's a completely different format. So, if this sucks, I will get better, I just need to get back into the groove of fanfiction writing. I'm going to be winding this story down in the next few chapters or so. I'm anxious to moving forward with other projects.

Thanks for not giving up on this story.

**Adventures with Mick St. John and Company**

"Do you solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" Cripes, now there's ominous for you. I'm in another one of Simone's professional looking suites, trying not to sweat. My eyes look for Mick in the crowd, and he's there, reclining in one of the front benches. Josef's there too, looking bored in one of his Armani suites, but there's a gleam in his eye. Who knows what that means? I didn't even know he was going to show up, but if I asked him, he'd probably claim it was for a change of pace from stocks and the economy. Knowing him, he's invested up to his ass in the big oil companies and is probably making a killing. Now that's sucking the blood right out of people.

You really know your life's messed up when finding out about vampires isn't that weird. You know your life's really messed up when you feel safer with two vampires (even when one tends to be an asshole a lot) than you do most other people. You know your life's totally messed up when stealing a police car and hiking through the desert is one of the easier things you've done lately.

"I do." I think I sound okay, not as nervous as I feel inside. I sit down inside the witness box, glad I didn't eat breakfast if you know what I mean. I want to clutch at my stomach, to feel that connection with my baby, but I don't dare. I can feeling Fayed staring me down, and I'm so paranoid he can see right through me like an ultrasound, and see the tiny life he'd snuff out without missing a beat, if given half the chance. He almost did. Logically, I know Mick, or maybe even Josef are ready to stop any threat before it comes my way. Still, try telling my heart that. Go ahead, I dare you.

D.A. Lindsay comes forward, very cool, very confident. I'm the ace in his hand, and he knows it. So does Fayed, I can see the realization in his eyes, even if he's stoned-faced. I can't read his fancy lawyers, but I know they're trying figure out a way to crucify me on the stand. What if they found out I was Jack's lover? That'd discredit me a million ways even. Panic starts to set in, and I see Mick lean forward, his eyes questioning me. What, can he hear my suddenly galloping heart rate? Josef arches a brow like he's saying: 'Come on, don't lose it. This is just getting interesting.' I want to strangle him all of sudden. He wouldn't know compassion if he kicked its way up his-wait a minute. Is he trying to distract me to keep me from panicking? Or maybe he's just an ass. Either way, it helps me keep it together.

"Miss Hayes, you were in the employ of Amir Fayed since July of 2003, correct?" We've been over this routine a thousand times, I knew my part.

"Yes."

"You were his daughter's nanny." Mara's sweet little face filled my mind and I just hoped she understood when she was older.

"Mara, yeah." I guess there would be other kids to look after, since I did plan on standing on my own two feet financially, but it wouldn't be the same.

"How did you meet Amir Fayed?"

I blew out a careful breath, glancing at Mick quickly for support. "He knew the people I was babysitting for in high school. They gave me a good reference. He called me up, we set up a meeting."

"Were you surprised he wanted to hire you, being so young and relatively inexperienced?" DA Lindsay folded his arms calmly over his chest, waiting for my answer like he could wait around all day.

"Objection!" One of Fayed's lawyers burst out. "Relevance, your honor."

"Overruled…for the moment." The judge gave the DA a warning glance. "Answer the question, Miss Hayes."

"You could say that. I mean, the money he was offering me was awesome, he could've had any professional he wanted for that price. I thought it was weird, but it didn't seem like there were strings attached…so I went for it."

"Did you know Jack Toland?"

"We both worked for Fayed, so yeah." This is where it was going to get tricky. I warned myself to omit as little as possible, the defense could use a 'forgotten detail' to trip me up.

"Would you say he was a decent-" was the beginning of the question.

"Objection! Leading the witness!" Yeesh, did he have to bellow?

This time the judge went for team defense. "Sustained."

"All right, let me rephrase that. What was your opinion of Jack, Miss Hayes?" Before the defense could get their panties in a twist, he held up his hand. "This line of questioning is very crucial, your honor."

There was some back and forth, and I tuned out for a minute. Even though it was at totally an inappropriate moment, my mind went back a few days, back to that afternoon with Josef's at Mick, when it had just been him and me, and dropped his little bombshell.

"_A kiss?" I looked at him incredulously. "Are you messing with me?"_

"_I never joke about a kiss with an attractive woman." He gave me a look of mock hurt._

_I start counting off on my fingers. "1, 'attractive' is totally subjective. I bet when you were my age, people had different definitions of what looked good. I mean, like lot's of body hair and not really bathing was socially in."_

_Josef grimaced. "Don't remind me. It's still a little too painful."_

"_Yeah, well, don't interrupt me. 2, you'd so totally mess with my mind, and that's really not cool right now. 3, like a kiss is going to tidy up a tab with you."_

_He cocked his head. "Finished?"_

"_For now."_

_The next thing I knew, he was kissing me. I don't mean a little peck on the lips either. There was full on contact, and tongue, there was tongue. At first, for a second or two tops, I froze, too shocked to really react. The first thing that hit me was that it wasn't Jack I was kissing. Don't get me wrong; even though I was a virgin, I'd done some smooching before I hooked up with the love of my young life. I had ideals but I wasn't going for nun hood. Still, I'd gotten used to the set of lips I kissed being Jack's. It felt…kind of wrong to be kissing anyone else, especially since Jack hadn't been dead all that long._

_But then sensation kind of took over, and the fact that it was wrong and all was kind of exciting. Man, did Josef know how to kiss. Then, the next thing I knew, instinct took over and I was kissing him back. It felt nice just to ride on the moment. He pulled me close and I let myself pretend. Not that he was Jack, but that I was kissing somebody that I cared about, that the body against mine was someone special to me. _

_Our tongues were tangling and I shivered as pleasure danced across nerves. My heart beat a little faster, and my blood must have been running hot and fast in my veins. In hindsight, it must have been tempting for Josef just to bite my tongue and take a snack, but he'd obviously learned some control in 400 years. His hands were in my hair and my arms were around his neck. Oxygen was starting to become an issue…_

I snapped back to myself in the courtroom, forcing myself to stick with the here and now. Just because I wanted to mentally escape didn't mean I could afford to. "Then I'll allow it…but watch yourself, counselor."

What had the question been? Oh, yeah. "Jack was a decent guy, straightforward, you know? He valued loyalty, which is why he was working for Fayed in the first place." My mind relived all the times Jack would tell me, 'but I owe him, Leni. What part of that don't you get?'

"And what work was he doing?" DA Lindsay coaxed patiently.

"He was Fayed's muscle. Just one of a lot-" That was about the time the defense butted in again, on some stipulation. I just tuned it out, and waited for DA Lindsay to cue me.

"Just answer the question, young lady," the judge advised me, and I nodded soberly.

"All right." Like I was going to piss off the judge. He seemed satisfied by my cooperation.

"Did Jack Toland discuss the nature of his work with you?" Josh prodded.

"No." And really, he didn't. I didn't want to know, anyway. I knew way more than I liked already.

"So you're not sure about his activities?"

"Details? No." I had my hands in my lap, and I was gripping 'em so tight it hurt, but at least no one could see.

"However, did he give you the impression these activities were illegal?"

"No impression, he _told_ me so." The low murmuring went through the spectators, and it was obvious they were eating up every word. The judge pounded his gravel once. "He said, and I quote: 'Nothing glamorous about breaking legs and scaring bribe money up.' The cops would be all up over this if they ever knew.' That's about as blunt as he ever got."

"I see." Josh leisurely walked the room, his eyes on the jurors for a minute, taking them in. "Miss Hayes, did Jack ever mention killing anyone?"

"Jack said he didn't do killings," I answered firmly. "Jack wasn't proud of the work he did, but he didn't do that kind of stuff for Mr. Fayed. That was for other guys-"

"Objection!" The defense lurched to his feet, throwing down his pen. Drama queen much? "Heresy, your honor. Miss Hayes got this information second hand, from a witness that can't collaborate her testimony."

"Sustained. The witness' last comment is to be stricken from the record. The jury is to disregard it," he announced. Both DA Lindsay and I figured it would be, but whether the judge said it was okay or not, it would stick in their minds, even on a subconscious level, or so I was told. What was important was I got it out of my mouth before getting so rudely interrupted.

"At some point, Jack Toland decided to not only break ties, but to turn against Fayed, isn't that correct? He was talking to the police?" Mick and I locked eyes for a minute, and he nodded encouragingly. Josef was checking his blackberry. I had to bite back a snort.

"That's what I heard." Yeah, from the horse's mouth, actually.

"Miss Hayes, I know this is difficult, but I would like you to recount the events that happened on the evening of Jack Toland's death." Damn straight it was difficult. It sucked royally, but I'd come this far, might as well go ten more steps through hell.

"Okay. Mara wanted a glass of water after having a nightmare, and it was kind of late, usually I'm asleep by then, so nobody would expect me to be up." I could do this, I just needed to breathe. I just prayed I wouldn't cry, that might seem a little much. "I came down the stairs…and I could hear Mr. Fayed yelling."

"Was Jack yelling too?"

"No, he was quiet. Maybe he was scared-" I started to say. I know I'd be scared if I was alone with an irate psycho.

"Objection, conjecture! The witness is-"

"Overruled," the judge snapped, probably thinking the guy was nitpicking. "Please continue, my dear."

Oh, man did my stomach hurt. My throat hurt too, it was so tight. I had to force the words free. "I was standing outside the living room when it happened. Fayed whipped out his gun, and before I could even think about why, he pulled the trigger." I made a violent gesture. "Jack collapsed like a sack of potatoes. He was dead."

"Did you actually hear what was being shouted?" DA Lindsay's voice was gentle, and from the looks on the juror's faces, I had their sympathy. Fayed's lawyers looked cool as cucumbers, but it wouldn't have sent out a vote of confidence to looked scared, right?

"Bits and pieces. Fayed kept saying 'Nobody does me this way, Toland.' He was out for blood, and he got it."

"And what did you do?"

"I froze," I admitted. "Probably what saved my life." I purposely echoed Mick's words, and it was somehow comforting.

"Objec-"

"Overruled." Hah, take that!

There were more questions, but they were basically just qualifying what ground we'd already covered. Finally…"No more further questions."

Now it was the turn for team defense. Oh, crap.


	23. The End

Hi guys. Well, I have an announcement to make. This is the last chapter of this story, I'm closing up shop. Also...I don't plan on continuing my Moonlight fanfiction. My muse has moved on, and I've got to follow her. Besides, between juggling college, my scanty social life, Tinman writing projects, and just me time, I don't have time anymore. There's only 24 hours in a day, you know? This has been an amazing journey, and I'll still continue to read and review stories in this section. I'll probably never have it so good in the review department again, you guys are amazing, but every story has its ending, and this is mine. Thanks for everything.

**Adventures with Mick St. John and Company**

The judge, I guess in the spirit of being human, decided on a recess. The last thing I saw before I left the courtroom were Fayed's lawyers putting their heads together, probably trying to figure out how to get out of **this** mess. _Jedi masters of bullshit, _I thought to myself, mentally flipping them off. Mick and Josef followed me out the courtroom, and I waited for them. Mick gave me a proud smile, and Josef straightened his already freakishly pressed suit. Typical. Then why was I smiling?

"You did good," Mick assured me, knowing I needed to hear it. Well, he wasn't a P.I. for nothing.

"Anti-climatic, if you ask me," Josef just had to toss in. I guess a compliment or something resembling encouragement was just too much for money bags. I was getting used to it.

"Yeah, like I did," I scoffed, but was still making with the smile. "Don't you have some family owned business to terrorize?"

"Not until tomorrow," Josef quipped, winking. Oh no, there was not warmth pooling in my belly. No way. That had to be the scrambled eggs Mick had all but force fed me this morning, because 'the baby needs the protein.' Mick's eyes were sharp on me. Was he catching on? Oh shit.

_Not like there's anything to catch onto, _I mentally told myself. Josef and I had exactly one stupid kiss under our belt, (even if it was incredibly satisfying) and we'd mutually decided we'd leave it at that. What his reasons were exactly, I don't know, but I had plenty. I was still in love with Jack, whether he messed around on me or not. (I guess I'd never really know for sure.) I had a baby to raise soon, and slipping Josef some tongue couldn't even be a priority right now. Then there was Simone. I liked her, and she was half in love with Josef already. Yeah, she had to share him with his little legion of vampire groupies, but that was different. That was just business/sex to some degree, but I'd be different. I'd be an actual friend, and even though it'd hardly be the romance of the century, a fling with Josef wouldn't be simple, because I wasn't a casual girl. Besides, I didn't want to have a fling with anybody. You think I waited until my early 20's to lose my virginity just to start screwing around? Nope, nothing doing.

Besides, and this was this biggie, I wouldn't be in LA much longer.

"Leni?" Mick's voice was gentle and just a shade away from concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Mick, she's about to have the defense cross examine her. Of course she's not all right," Josef chimed in, all so helpful. You know, maybe I wouldn't miss him all that much. Then again, bantering with him kept me sharp. "They'll flay her if they can."

"Why don't you go harass a stockbroker or something," Mick told him, almost snapping at him. "Let me handle this."

"My, someone's touchy." But Josef drifted off into the crowd, letting us have a minute.

"Well, Mr. Sensitivity's almost right," I admitted. "I am kind of freaked out over being cross-examined, but there's something else too." I led Mick over to a bench, taking a deep breath as I sat down. "Look, Mick, I got a job offer," I blurted.

"As a nanny?"

"Well, since I'll have a bump sooner rather than later, exotic dancer is out for a while." I could feel my own wicked grin as Mick shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't quite embarrass as much as he would have after just meeting me. Damn, I guess he was getting some kind of immunity. "Yeah. One of Josef's...staff," I wriggled my eyebrows, "Tina, is going to have a baby. It wasn't planned, but she was going to leave Josef's place anyway. She really loves the father. I don't think her and Josef have slept together for almost a year."

"You're going to help take care of her baby?" Mick gently prodded, keeping me on point.

"Uh, yeah. The thing is, Mick, she's moving to San Francisco to be closer to the father. He's got business in LA, but that's where he lives. They're gonna get married, and they want at least one more little Minchin before all's said and done, but not for a while." Okay, I was close to rambling now. Their planned parenting schedule wasn't important, I needed to focus on the important part. "Obviously, I'm moving in with them. She's even cool about the fact I'm having one, since our babies can bond and all that. As long as it doesn't..."

Mick lay his hands over mine. "Since she worked for Josef, I know she's trustworthy. If you looked up thorough, you'd find his picture next to it." We shared a smile. "You're going to move in with them you said?"

"Yeah. After the baby's born, she's going to pursue her career of being an agent for up and coming models/actresses. Hell, she might represent musicians too, I don't know. It's gonna be hectic, and she needs the help."

"I was hoping you'd raise the baby in LA," Mick admitted sadly. "Leni, you could always find a job here."

"Mick, I'm not moving to Mars or anything. You're still gonna be the godparent, and there's gonna be lots of visits." I nodded firmly, trying to ignore my own wave of sadness. "I like Tina a lot, we hit it off. She's cool, and I know I'd like working for her. It's good pay and free rent. My kid's gonna have someone to hang out with, that's a bonus. Besides…" I dropped my eyes to my shoes, shuffling them a bit. "If I stay, I'm just gonna end up leeching off you. No, don't interrupt. It wouldn't be like on purpose, and I'm not just talking financially, you know? I gotta stand on my own two feet, gotta make it on my own terms. If I stick around, whether I mean to or not, I'm just going to come running to you or Josef every time I land my ass in a jam. It'd be too easy to get comfy with that. No, it's better the way I'm doing it."

"I can't change your mind?" I blinked back sudden tears, he sounded so bummed out.

"Part of me wishes you could." I sighed, resisted the urge to run my hands over my hair and mess it up royally. "Look, we'll keep in touch, yeah? I'll e-mail you like crazy, and you might even want to change your number after a few weeks. I'll pay for your ticket to San Francisco, and I hope you'll come to see the little bundle of joy after it makes it world debut." Of course I knew it was a girl, Mick probably knew it was a girl, and Josef did. But I'd have to explain it to Mick how I knew if I said 'she.'

"Maybe its better you get away for a while anyway," Mick sighed, resigned.

"Yeah."

"Oh, Christ. I leave for two minutes and you two look like someone shot your puppy," Josef barked, but his eyes looked vaguely worried. "Mick, what did-"

"Mick didn't do nothing," I interrupted, shaking my head. "I just told him I'm moving."

"Oh, is that all?" Josef retorted airily. "Mick, she had to leave the nest sometime. So where's your new digs?"

"San Francisco," I told him evenly.

Josef was quiet for a few seconds, appraising. "Ah. You got the job with Tina." I couldn't really read past his poker face.

"That's the plan." I wasn't really sure how I wanted or expected Josef to take this. When did dealing with him get confusing? _Don't let a kiss go to your head, Hayes,_ I warned myself.

"Well, congratulations. I'm sure Mick will do the travel industry good by making lots of home check-ups on his new godchild." He turned his attention on Mick. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll let you borrow the jet."

I felt my eyes go huge at his casual announcement. "You have a jet?"

"Naturally. Can you see me flying commercial?" Well, actually, yeah, and it wasn't a pretty picture. He'd be a total diva. Or was that divo? Whatever, he'd be it. "If I ever have business in San Francisco, I'll see if I can fit in a visit. It might be a nice change of pace." The wording and delivery was nonchalant as all get out, but there was a faint gleam in his eyes that suggested otherwise. I should have been worried, but I'd been through too much to scare that easy.

"Oh, goodie." But I winked to let him know that was cool with me. If anyone looked worried, it was Mick. I think he was starting to catch on to some…you know, vibe in the air. I wanted to explain it to him, but I was still trying to figure it out.

For now, Josef didn't fit into my set of priorities. But maybe someday…maybe someday he would.

**&**

Leni Hayes paused in her typing, satisfied with what she'd written so far. It was more than enough for the first installment of her story. She wondered if she should get into the cross-examination, then decided against it. The good guys had won, Fayed was behind bars. She knew Mick would be keeping an eye on him; make sure he didn't get her from behind bars.

She looked around her bedroom in San Francisco; put her hand on her swollen belly. Someday her baby would read this, and know what mommy's life had been like before she was even born. She'd find out about vampires, 'cause like hell Leni was leaving her daughter in the dark, whether Josef Kostan liked it or not.

Mick had already visited her once, and the stuffed animals on the bed were proof of that. He e-mailed constantly, although he was very guarded about his own life. After the baby, who she planned on naming Gabriella Jacqueline, (Gabriel was Mick's middle name) she'd tell him she knew he was a vampire.

She wondered how it was going with Beth and Mick, if she'd dumped Josh or not, or if they were all still playing the game. She shrugged; it wasn't her business or problem. If he wanted her to know more, she would.

She printed out the pages, planning on putting them in her safe. It'd take dynamite to get to it, and like anybody would believe what they read.

It had been a hell of an adventure, and there'd be more to come. "Poor kid," she murmured, stroking her stomach. "You're so in for it. Sorry." But she knew it'd be okay, because even if they were living in different cities, she had Mick in her corner. That was enough.


End file.
